


RDR2: Falling for a Cowboy (Choices)- John Marston

by ATYPICAL28



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Choices, Cowboys, F/M, Interactive, Romance, Slow Burn, Western
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 23
Words: 25,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ATYPICAL28/pseuds/ATYPICAL28
Summary: Tread lightly, for whatever you choose when a path is given, it can either end terribly wrong or perfectly wonderful.
Relationships: Abigail Roberts Marston/John Marston/Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character(s), Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character(s), John Marston/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 1





	1. June Shirley Harlow

The young woman watched her mother raise the teacup to her lips, humming in a delighted tone. She was supposed to be playing the piano, but at the moment, it felt impossible. The birds twittered peacefully outside even through the light rain that was falling, causing the trees to blow gently. In the distance, the pond shimmered with an inviting look and the young woman wondered what it would be like to swim about in it. She was never allowed to do anything fun, but nonetheless, her imagination got the best of her. Her thoughts seemed so loud in fact, she couldn't hear her mother snapping for her attention, and it was the loud yelling of her name that broke her trance.

"June Shirley!" her mother quipped, her eyes wide and her brows furrowed together. June sat up straight, looking to the older lady upon the couch. She had set her cup down and was glaring at June as though she was waiting to burn a hole right through her. Blushing and clearing her throat, she focused back on the piano, not realizing her hands were trembling, "Sorry, Mother." 

"Don't _apologize,_ Shirley! Play!" Her mother shook her head and resumed the knitting she had been doing moments ago. June looked down at the black and white keys, drawing a finger over one of them and frowning. She had never chosen to play the piano. She had never chosen to learn French or German or Swedish. She was tired of wearing corsets and going to balls to meet a man that her mother would push her to marry. She wasn't like her mother, drinking tea out of little glass cups or rocking in a rocking chair to knit. Ever since her father had been killed, she had been forced into a life she didn't want to be part of. 

"Need I tell you again?" her mother's voice snapped at June, but she was already on her feet, stalking towards the young girl with heavy footsteps. Turning her head, she was delivered a slap to the face, her cheek burning and feeling numb. June stood up so abruptly, she knocked her chair down, storming out the front door and out into the garden. She knew her mother wouldn't follow her, for she was probably surprised she had slapped her and was contemplating her actions. They had a large property that was fenced in all around. June wasn't allowed to step outside, unless her mother wanted to take her into town to pick out a new dress. She was twenty-eight. She had no job, no chance of meeting a man _she_ actually wanted to marry, and no freedom. 

Tears lined her cheeks as she slumped down in the grass below her favorite willow tree. It had given her comfort since the day her father had taught her how to use a knife. It was one of her skills, according to him. Her mother had never approved, and had taken the opportunity to hide her collection of blades when her father died. She had searched the entire house for them, but had no luck. _Perhaps she buried them_ ,June thought to herself as she rested her head against the trunk. 

There was a caressing breeze that drifted across her face, making the sting of her cheek go away. She closed her eyes, listening to the pitter-patter of rain fall gently. It was cold, but June couldn't care less. Soon, she fell asleep, letting memories play in her head, the sound of gunshots and shouting filling her head.

* * *

_"June! June get out of here!" it was unmistakably her father's voice, though it sounded as though it were being carried by the wind as the young teenager ran outside. Her mother was being tied up, a strip of fabric being placed between her teeth. She was on her knees, looking to what was happening in front of her and trying to say something. June followed her gaze, covering her mouth when she saw her father was being held by a man in a black suit, his grey mustache twitching as he held a gun to his head._

_"Nobody moves!" the strange man snarled, gesturing for someone to grab June, but she easily slipped away from the approaching man, rushing over to her father. She was quickly stopped by another man though, two muscular arms wrapping around her waist and a cold blade touching her neck. She gulped and stared at her father in confusion and loss. What was she supposed to do? What was happening?_

_"I said. Nobody. Moves," the man with the suit said, chuckling darkly as he watched June struggle a bit. Realizing there was nothing she could do, she froze and was forced to listen to the enemy. The one that kept her father's head pressed to the gun._

_"Your father hasn't been a very honest man, I'm afraid," he glanced at her father and licked his lips, as a cat would do when seeing a mouse. He was enjoying this. June could only keep her eyes on her father, his brown hair looking like a soaked rag on his head. His eyes were lowered shamefully to the ground, but June could still see the shade of green they were, like emerald against the sand on a beach. What had he done?_

_"He took something from me. Something I wish to have returned...otherwise..." he shifted the gun and his black soulless eyes shone dangerously, "I'll put a bullet in his pretty little head. Or...I could put one in_ her _head." He pointed the gun to June, making her tense up and attempt to step back. The man behind her lowered his head, his warm breath hitting the back of her neck. Her father raised his head, his eyes landing on her own as he seemed to be saying how sorry he was for all of this._

_"Now...what will it be, David?" the stranger whispered. Her father nodded, "It's under the floorboards upstairs. Please. Just let her go." As if on cue, June was shoved aside, and the man that had been holding her went into the house, making a dramatic entrance by kicking it open. He was gone for a few minutes before returning with a small satchel. He threw it to the one who seemed to be in charge, and as he rummaged through it, he picked something and took it out, rolling it between his fingers, "Ah. Very good. Very good indeed. I suppose I don't have to kill these two." Before her father could respond, the man with the mustache looked at June, pulling the trigger and her father dropped to the ground. June could barely hear her own scream through the pouring rain, and she didn't even look up to see the man who had just killed her father ride away. Her only focus was on her father, his blood surrounding him and his face full of fear, frozen in place forever._

* * *

June woke up in fright, her face wet with tears as she pulled her knees to her chest and took in her surroundings. It had stopped raining and she still sat alone, the wind whistling through the trees. She thought back to that night. The one that had haunted her dreams, somehow showing her every little detail over and over again. It had been ten years since that night, but it always felt like only days ago. Her mother never seemed affected by it, but June knew deep down she had to be. She knew how much her mother had loved him, and it would be a lie if she said she didn't still love him. She would probably never remarry. 

As much as June loved her mother, it was difficult to admit that she didn't want to leave. She wanted to have a life of her own. To start off fresh and explore the world. Her father had always called her his little adventurer growing up. She would run around the yard bare-footed and climbing trees. She would pick small flowers and create little crowns of bracelets out of them. Her mother had adored watching her young daughter run up the porch to her and put the floral jewelry on her head. Sometimes she would keep them as bookmarks in the book she was reading and tell June that a fairy would visit them to grant her a wish. She was always disappointed when they didn't show though.

Her mother, as much as she may have despised the idea of it now, used to enjoy making up stories. She wasn't one for getting dirty or rolling down grassy hills or anything, but she had a vivid imagination. Every night she would tell June a story and tuck her in tight under the covers, sometimes scolding her playfully for having a knife under her pillow. She had loved her knives dearly and hoped she would get them back soon. Or at least buy a new one. 

June heaved a sigh and wiped a hand over her face, deciding to head back inside and quit her sulking. She wasn't the type to be sad all the time, especially when it came to the past. She thought about her childhood often, yes, but she knew that things would never be the same again. She was grown up, and she didn't have time for adventure. _I sound just like Mother!_ She thought to herself as she walked through the door to the house. Her mother was in the kitchen, cutting carrots and radishes. June wasn't very fond of the red vegetables, but she brushed off the idea of starting another argument and sat herself down at the table, watching her mother's skillful hands. She herself loved working in the kitchen, having made and memorized nearly all the meals in the several cookbooks her mother had bought. It was nice to have _something_ a little messy to do.

"We need to talk," her mother spoke up after a thick silence surrounded them, as if the air itself was turning to fog. When she was younger, June would have been terrified of these words, but now she just stared at the older woman, waiting patiently for her to continue. After a pause, she set the knife down, cleaned her hand on her apron, and turned to her, but keeping her gaze lowered, "I think you should leave. I think you need to discover things for yourself and get some fresh air. I've...I've been holding on too long. Oh June. Can you ever forgive me?" The first sentence had made June open her mouth is surprise and awe.

Was she really telling her this? Had her mother been reading her thoughts? What had led her to suddenly tell her this, and why now? Her mother finally looked up, her chocolate orbs shimmering with water as June got up and made her way to the older woman. She frowned softly and wrapped her arms around her frail body, feeling her tense up before relaxing again. She wasn't sure if she had heard right, but June wasn't focused on it at the moment. All she cared about right now was taking care of her mother. She didn't remember the last time she had hugged her, but she knew it had had to be sometime before her father.

"Why?" was all June could muster as she pulled away, wiping one of her mother's tears from her cheek with a thumb. One minute her mother was delivering a slap to her and the next she was crying in front of her. She never cried in front of her. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.

"I...I'm sick, June. I have been for quite some time," her mother said quietly, not meeting her daughter's gaze. 

"You're dying..." June corrected, making it a statement and not a question, and as her mother nodded, she suddenly wished she hadn't said anything. The pain in her mother's face was all she could see and she bit her bottom lip. She suddenly began to piece everything together. All the balls she had been taken to. Her mother had been trying to find a man for her. To find a husband to bear grandchildren for her. She would never see them if June was to have any. She would never see her daughter get married.

"How long do you have?" June croaked, trying to keep herself from breaking. Her mother looked at her, as if pleading her to not ask, but she turned her head to the window. 

"Less than a year. Possibly only a few months. The doctor doesn't know...I've been sick for a year already....June...I couldn't see you go. I couldn't let you go, and for that I'm truly sorry. But...you were the only little piece of him I had left. Please...forgive me?" her mother kept her eyes trained on the exterior of the house, not watching anything in particular as she waited for a response. June was speechless. How had her mother not told her this? Was it because she thought she wouldn't understand?

"I forgive you, Mother. Of course I do," June embraced her again, but only briefly before pulling apart once more. Her mother gave her a sad smile and nodded, taking her hand in her own and leading her up to her room. There she motioned for June to sit on the edge of her bed as she rummaged around the closet for something. After a moment, she revealed a little green felt box and brought it to the bed. June's eyes widened and her mouth hung open when her mother showed her its contents. It was full of her precious knives. There were about a dozen, some silver, some with wooden engravings on the handles, some with leather wrapped around them. She picked one of her old favorites up; a black handle with a white leathery ribbon around it. It bore an engraving reading: _Harlow._ It had been one of the few items that had been passed down from generation to generation.

"Go June. Pack your bags and just go," her mother took her daughter's hand in hers, rubbing her knuckles softly and reassuring. All she could do was nod as she took her box of knives and smiled down at them. They somehow made her feel closer to her father, and she was glad she finally had them back after so many years. She got up off the bed and looked once more at her mother, whispering a quiet, "Thank you," before walking away to her room. 

She was quick to pack her bags, her heart banging wildly in her chest as she went through all of her clothes and important essentials. She packed her brush, knives, powder for her face, a bag of coins, and a couple ribbons to tie her hair up if needed in a satchel. She then rummaged through her drawers, finding two pairs of jeans, a few blouses, a warm jacket that she had gotten from her mother last year, and she packed an extra pair of boots. She threw off her dress, not intending to bring one, and put on a [red flannel and jeans](https://s3.amazonaws.com/com.stitchfix.blog/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/28130757/18-08-01_Set_2_W_OLD_v10-S1.jpg) (not the boots in the image), pinning her hair up in a bun as she looked herself over in the mirror. She then pulled on a nice pair of [boots](https://welovecowboyboots.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/06/gorgeous-cowgirl-boots.jpg) and admired the pretty swirling design on them. She remembered when she had practically begged her father to get them for her, but her mother had told her to put them away because she wasn't about to go galloping around on horses. 

With everything packed, including a few cans of food, she examined her features one last time, satisfied with the way her dirty-blonde hair cascaded down to the center of her back and how her hazel eyes glowed nicely against her light skin. She headed downstairs and walked out the front door, greeting the fresh air and smell of freedom that lay ahead of her. She was finally able to go wherever she pleased. She walked down the path, loving the sound of her heels clicking on the stone ground. Making her way to the stable, she determined which horse to take. Her father had taught her how to ride when she was younger, but it had been far too long since she sat on one, let alone even put a saddle on one.

_"Once you ride a horse, you'll never forget how,"_ he had told her. She almost laughed at the thought as she came up to one of her favorite males, his black mane cut a bit short. He was a lovely golden-bronze, and though he had a stubborn temper, he was also very gentle. June rubbed his muzzle and carefully managed to get the saddle on him, hoisting herself up with ease. 

"That was far easier than I expected!" she said to herself with a sigh of relief. With one more glance back to her home, she rode off past the gate that she had never been able to cross before.

* * *

June wasn't sure how long she had been riding before her eyes began to droop. The sun had set at least an hour ago, the darkness having swallowed her whole. She had gone over what her mother had told her. How long had she been ill? What if she didn't get to say good-bye? Why was she finally being set free? She knew she should have asked these questions to begin with, but it was too late. 

She raised her eyes to the star-filled sky, breathing in a deep breath of fresh air. She patted her horse, thinking to herself that he should have a name. Going through ones that may fit the horse, she didn't notice the two men that were following her. That was until another appeared in front of her, emerging from the shadows, "Hello, miss. You lost?"

June stiffened at the gruff voice and pulled on the reins, coming to a stop as she stared at the man in front of her. He had a crooked smile as he scanned her up and down, making her shift uncomfortably, "N-No. I ain't. Are you?" She tried to keep herself from sounding terrified, only failing somewhat. He chuckled darkly and motioned to someone behind her, and before June had time to comprehend what was happening, she was being pulled off her saddle, kicking and screaming through a hand that quickly covered her mouth. She managed to squirm just enough to get a finger in her mouth and bit down as hard as she could, causing the man to let go and let out a yelp.

"Hold her down God dammit!" the man in front of her snapped, grabbing her horse and pulling it off the road. She was grabbed again by the third man, her boots meeting his nose with a loud crack.

"My nose! She broke my nose!" he shrieked, and June would have laughed had she not been held down. That's when she heard it; the sound of spurs and the galloping of a horse. She tried to scream, hoping someone would come to her rescue. She hadn't even been out for more than a day and she was already in trouble. Was she going to die? _I ain't gonna die today. I ain't gonna die today!_ She told herself as she was brought further into the woods.

"Let the girl go," a deep voice reached her ears, and she felt the man holding her stop and turn to face the stranger. She could just make out a black vest and red handkerchief around his neck as she was gripped tighter around the waist. Her insides twisted uncomfortably at the touch and she wished suddenly that she was back at home.

"Whatcha say to me, partner?" the leader growled, cocking his gun and pointing it at the man.

"I said. Let. The. Girl. Go," he took a step forward with each word, a smirk playing on his lips as his chocolate-brown eyes met June's. He had a bit of facial hair and was very well dressed. But something about him seemed...off. Something June couldn't play. Before she could think further, she was shoved to the ground, grinding her teeth when she landed on a rock. Then a shot was fired, then another, followed by more. She quickly ducked behind a boulder, surprised to see a man already crouched there. Thinking it was one of the men that was about to kidnap her, she spun around, but was yanked down again.

"Hey! Get down, or else you'll get shot! We ain't got time for games!" realizing this man was with the nicely dressed one, she stayed put, glancing at the sandy-haired man as he took one last shot. She hadn't heard that sound in far too long, and her ears rang loudly.

"You alright there, miss?" three new men were now in front of her, looking rather concerned. At least two of them were. The third man stood a bit further away, picking at his nails as if all he wanted to do was get out of there and go to bed. June found herself nodding, praying that these men really only had the intention of saving her. As she examined each of their features, she suddenly felt like she had been in the right place at the right time, or perhaps the other way around. These men had just saved her life, leaving her kidnappers lying dead in their own pools of blood.

"Miss? You lost?" the sandy-haired man spoke up, his voice gentle and husky. He had a rosy face, almost looking sunburned and his aqua-hazel eyes met hers. He had a stubbly face, much less clean than the one that was nicely dressed. The one that looked to be the leader wore a black bowler hat and he held himself up with pride and power. He was definitely the leader. The third man had his head lowered a bit, not bothering to immerse in the conversation, had short shaggy auburn locks and a smaller build than the other two. He was younger in the face, bearing a few scars on his tan face. He then raised his head to look at her, his brows furrowed with an unreadable expression. Noticing she was staring, she felt her cheeks flush, thankful for the darkness and focused back on the other man.

"I was just headin' to town..." she whispered, shuffling her feet. Something nudged her shoulder and she turned to see her horse, smiling up at him before looking back at the men.

"Town ain't for another few miles," the leader chuckled, sending a shiver up June's spine, "May I just say, you handled yourself well against those O'Driscolls." 

"O'Driscolls? A-And thank you. My pa taught me how to defend myself when I was young," she didn't know why she was telling him that. Maybe it was because he seemed trustworthy. Or maybe she was intimidated and felt like she should tell him everything from the day she was born to this moment. Either way, she supposed she didn't mind. She may as well tell him she could defend herself just in case they tried to pull anything.

"O'Driscolls. A nasty gang of nasty men. We ourselves are a gang, but we aren't bad men, miss. Now, you obviously ain't plannin' on heading to town until mornin'. Might I suggest you come with us? We got a camp not too far off and we would _love_ to get to-" the man was cut off as the quiet one seemed to snap out of his daze, grabbing the man's arm and whispering quietly, 

"What are ya doin', Dutch?! We don't even _know_ her!" June glanced at the sandy-haired man, who just winked at her and cleared his throat,

"You ain't afraid of her, are ya, Marston?" June stiffled a laugh, earning a smirk from the leader who clapped the men on the shoulder and stepped towards her. He held out a hand, which she accepted and shook with a firm grip to match his own.

"Dutch Van Der Linde. A pleasure to meet ya, miss..."

"June. June Harlow," and looking back to that day, she still wasn't sure what had made her shake the man's hand. What had made her get on her horse and ride back to their camp with them. But she was sure that this was the fresh start she needed. And little did she know, her life was about to turn upside down.

[Next Chapter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460550/chapters/69740772)


	2. Hot-Headed

She would have been lying if she said she didn't enjoy the ride. Dutch was quite the talker, and Arthur wasn't afraid to speak up when he felt like it too, even if he didn't initiate the conversation first. As for the one she now knew as Marston, he didn't say a word, keeping to himself in the back as he mumbled to himself, too softly to hear. June couldn't help but feel she was to blame for his mood, but Dutch, seeming to read her mind assured her he was always like that.

"So where ya from, miss Harlow?" he asked, coming to ride on the other side of her like Arthur. She was surprised that they had taken such a quick liking to her, considering they didn't even know her. She shrugged and heaved a sigh,

"I live east of here. My mother owns quite a bit of property and she...well she sent me on my way to have my own life. I wasn't thinking I would run into those men back there. I thank you for saving my life. It's nice to live for another day."

"It would've been a shame to leave ya. It'll be nice to have such a proper young lady at camp with us. Perhaps your mannerism will rub off on the other girls," Arthur piped in, grinning. June felt her stomach flip. At the mention of other girls, she could only feel excited. She had been home-schooled, not having interacted much with other women, let alone people for that matter- unless her mother had invited someone over for tea.

"Who ya workin' for? You plannin' to turn us in?" Marston was the one to speak, causing June to jump a bit. She had forgotten he was there due to how quiet he was. Dutch spun his head to glare at him,

"John! What the _hell_ is wrong with you?!" June felt like she should say something to him, feeling very much offended by his accusation. _Turn them in? Why would I do that after they had just saved me? The damsel in distress?_ Sure they may have been part of a gang, but that didn't mean she had any reason to turn against them. What could she possibly do to them anyway? Three men to one woman wasn't the fairest fight. Perhaps he _was_ intimidated by her, though she couldn't understand why that would be. Still, she didn't need to be picked on the first day of her freedom.

***Choice***

[Snap at John](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460550/chapters/69740787#workskin)

[Kindly persuade him otherwise](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460550/chapters/69740811#workskin)

[Change the subject](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460550/chapters/69740832#workskin)


	3. Hot-Headed

**_Snap At John_ **

June had had enough of this moping man, and she stopped her horse and stared at him, eyes shooting daggers into him. He stared back with just as much hatred, almost daring her to say something. That's when she snapped,

"How _dare_ you?! You don't even _know_ me! You may think just 'cause I accepted to come and spend the night in your camp you can treat me like dirt! But if you really believe _I'm_ about to turn you people in after savin' my life, you couldn't be more wrong, mister Marston. I suggest you shut that yap of yours before I cut off your testicles and shove them in your mouth to do it for you! Do we understand each other?!" June didn't remember ever letting out so much anger before, not even when her mother had taken her knives away. She had kept quiet because she feared if she spoke she would never see them again. But this man was on her last nerve and she was going to set him straight if that's what she had to do.

John blinked, opening and closing his mouth as his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. _Good! He should be ashamed of himself!_ June huffed and waited for him to speak, and when he just nodded stiffly, obviously flabbergasted by her little outburst, she returned the gesture and turned to Arthur, who had his brows raised and his hands up in defense,

"I ain't gonna say nothin'," he promised, chuckling a bit. She couldn't help but smile at him, though it quickly faded when John's voice spoke behind her.

"You better be outta here by tomorrow mornin'," he growled, making her roll her eyes. That had been her plan after all, but she didn't like hearing him ordering her around, so she said the first thing that came to mind,

"I may just join your little gang, considering I have nowhere else to go!" She hadn't expected to feel the tears prick her eyes, and she quickly turned away from him to keep him from seeing. Her bottom lip quivered and she bit down on it as hard as she could to keep it from being noticed. Dutch, who seemed to be the behavior expert though, rode up beside her and took her hand gently, rubbing the back of her knuckles in comfort. She raised her gaze up to the older man, wondering how he could be so kind to her when he hardly knew her. 

"Ride up ahead with me, dear," he offered softly, leading her horse ahead of the other two cowboys. When they were out of earshot, he spoke his thoughts out loud, "You got nothin' to go back to, do ya?" June only nodded, keeping her gaze lowered as she saw how white her knuckles were, clenching the reins tightly. She drew in a steady breath to calm herself and loosened her grip.

"Miss, I ain't sure you understand why I brought you along," he said. When she didn't respond, he continued with a soft sigh, "I saw somethin' in ya back there. I ain't so sure what it was, but my gut was tellin' me that I had to bring you back to camp. I may not know who you are, but I know a fighter when I see one, and you are a fighter."

June looked up at him, smirking at his words and moved a strand of hair from her face, "I-I meant what I said back there...about joinin' your gang...I don't have anywhere to go, mister Van Der Linde. I don't even know where I would begin if I went to town..." she trailed off, hoping he would understand where she was coming from. _Did I just say that? Did I really want to join a gang? Who knew what they did for a living? Stealing and killing? Probably. But why do I feel so...drawn to these men? At least two of them..._

Dutch chuckled, "Well...don't worry what John back there says. He ain't even the boss. I believe you would make a wonderful addition to the gang. But may I ask why?" June was asking herself the same question, passing a look to Arthur who was riding behind her. Feeling her eyes on him, he looked at her and smiled. He seemed to have liked her from the start, and she wondered if their friendship would grow if she did decide to stay. She had never killed a man before. But she had wanted to before. She had wanted to kill the man who murdered her father all those years ago. She had thought about taking her knife and stabbing him in the heart. Of course, she never thought she _would_ be able to do it. But if it was to defend herself, she surely wouldn't hesitate. Her father had taught her well, no matter how long she had been without him. She always remembered.

"My father...he was killed when I was a little girl. I...I've been lost without him...and my mother...she's the one that made me leave. I suppose I got nothing to lose," as the words left June's mouth, she realized how true it actually was. Perhaps almost getting kidnapped was supposed to happen. Perhaps she was meant to stumble upon these men and learn to live the dangerous way. Perhaps this was her calling.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I don't suppose you know who did it?" he asked, tilting his head. June shrugged,

"I only remember what he looked like. White hair and a mustache. He was a bigger guy wand he was wearing a black suit..." she could see his face whenever she closed her eyes. She used to have the same dream every night, watching her father get killed by the same man over and over again.

"Well, miss Harlow. We'll see how you fit in tonight and we'll discuss it more tomorrow, hmm?" he put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and she nodded. He had a calming presence about him, and she couldn't help but think of her father whenever he spoke. Something about his wisdom stuck with her and she suddenly wondered what her father would think. What would he think if he knew she was with these men? That she was planning to join a gang of outlaws? She shivered at the thought, which must have caught Arthur's attention because he removed his coat and handed it to her,

"You cold?" She nodded and took it happily, throwing it over her shoulders and was immediately engulfed in warmth. He grinned at her as she snuggled against it. John, who had ridden up closer scoffed under his breath, causing June to shoot him a look. But he ignored her.

"Who's there?!" came a grumpy sounding voice from the dark. June could just make out a bigger figure standing int he shadows, holding a rifle of some sort as he pointed it at the group. June froze, but regained herself when Dutch dismissed him with a hand, "It's just us, Bill. Everyone still awake? I got some news to share." 

"I ain't too sure. I 'spect mostly everyone's still up," he went back to patrolling as they passed, Arthur helping June down from her horse. He gave her a small wink, making her flush in the cheeks and turn to follow Dutch through the rather large camp. It seemed as if more than a dozen people were in the gang, which surprised June because she had for one, never seen a gang or had anything to do with one, and two, it probably meant that they were more like...family if anything.

There was a small crackling fire with a few people surrounding it, someone playing guitar while the others sang or swayed to the music. _How jolly!_ June had never heard such music! All she ever had was her piano and violin, but the instrument that someone was holding looked bigger than what she had, still containing mostly the same strings and style. Everyone paused what they were doing, getting to their feet at the sight of Dutch.

"Attention! Attention everyone! I have someone I'd like to introduce you to! This here is June! She'll be stayin' with us tonight! I'd like you all to make her feel welcomed!" it was obvious that he made a lot of speeches, and as everyone listened in, June felt as though she were being watched, and not from the people who stood in front of her. She looked over her shoulder, gasping silently when she saw more people coming out of their tents, rubbing the sleep from their eyes as they joined the announcement. She didn't, however, realize that someone else was watching her from the dark, his three pale scars gleaming in the moonlight.

* * *

June was introduced to everyone in the camp, though some didn't seem to appreciate Dutch bringing in a woman of such class. It didn't go unnoticed the way she walked properly or the way she shook someone's hand. She wasn't the toughest of the group, that was for sure. Her first impression of Charles, Hosea, Javier, Sadie, Pearson, Tilly, and Mary-Beth were good. She liked them from the start and blushed when Hosea planted a loving kiss on the back of her hand, telling her it was a pleasure to have a _real_ lady around the camp, which earned him a playful smack from an older woman. 

Bill, Swanson, Strauss, and Molly didn't warm up to her at first, but that was fine. Her mother had once told her that she shouldn't think to be accepted by everyone. There were bound to be people who didn't like her in life. 

Dutch gave her a tour of the camp, which was hidden well enough for the many tents and wagons that were set up. It was a nice area on the cliff, looking over the lake below. Mountains stood high and mighty in the distance, the moon's light peeking over it halfway. The camp was full of light chatter and even some banter every now and then, and June for some reason couldn't help but feel like she belonged. She was offered a bowl of stew that Mr. Pearson had made and she kindly accepted, taking a spoonful and her eyes widened. She had never tasted something so...foreign. As though she had traveled to another time or place.

Every now and then she would look around for John, wondering to herself what made him so upset about her. _Why not just give me a chance?_ She came across a young boy then, his short brown locks swept across his forehead and his eyes wide with curiosity as he tilted his head at her, "Are you a princess?" June blinked, smiling down at him and shaking her head.

"No. Are you a prince?" she played along, kneeling down to his level. He giggled, drawing something in the dirt with a stick, though it was too dark for June to make out what it was.

"I'm Jack! I heard about a lost princess. I wonder what happened to her...Ma says she probably found a family to care for her. Pa don't think so," he seemed a bit more occupied on what he was doing to continue talking to her, so she got up and headed towards Dutch, who motioned for her to sit beside him. She did, resting her chin on her palm as she examined the camp again. It had quieted down just a bit, a few of the women heading off to bed. The men were drinking and eating by the fire, laughing every now and then at unheard stories and jokes.

"How you gettin' on?" the leader asked around a mouthful of stew. June grinned,

"It's certainly not what I imagined."

"Is that good or bad?" Dutch said with serious concern, his eyes widening at her words. She couldn't help but laugh,

"Trust me, it's good."

"Well how did you imagine it?" June thought about this for a moment before leaning in close and whispering,

"For one, I didn't expect _clean_ people. And two, you all seem real close." She sighed at the last part and picked at something under her nails. She could have sworn they had been clean before she left that morning. _My! Had it really only been that morning when I left?_ Time moved so fast, sometimes it didn't seem real.

"We ain't no dirty drunk men ma'am. And we're family. All of us. Now, best you get some rest. I'd like to take you for a ride tomorrow to speak about what is to become of you," he smiled and set down his bowl of food, offering her his hand, which she took shyly.

"John has kindly allowed you to sleep in his tent for the night. I bet he's real sorry for how he acted earlier. He ain't always like that, I can assure you. He's just not been himself lately due to...well...I suppose it ain't my place," Dutch led her to a small tent, a beautiful bear skin spread on the ground to lie on. _Sure he was sorry._ He tipped his hat to her and left her alone, listening to the soft chatter from the remaining people awake. She yawned, realizing she really was tired. Having left her satchel on her horse, which she had decided to call Finnegan, she walked back out, nearly running into someone. John stared at her with a shocked expression, almost looking...worried? She laughed nervously, not wanting to look him in the face, but then she remembered that it was his tent that she would be staying in and she opened her mouth to speak. He of course beat her to it, already assuming what she was going to say,

"Don't mention it. I'm just keepin' watch tonight. To make sure _you_ don't go scoping 'bout while everyone's sleepin'." He cleared his throat and walked away, his arm brushing against hers roughly. _He did that on purpose! That son of a-_

"Don't take it to heart. He's just a real pain in the ass. The only soft side you'll see of him is when he's talkin' to Jack," a stern-looking female emerged from the tent beside her, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched John lean on a tree nearby. She was lovely, her pale skin and almost black hair tied in a messy bun. She couldn't tell what color her eyes were in the dark, but June imagined they were hazel.

"Abigail Roberts. I'm Jack's mother. And that _stubborn mule_ there is...well...I ain't too sure actually," she shrugged and stuck out a hand, shaking June's with a smile. She then nodded and turned to a small Jack who was tugging on the hem of her dress.

"I'm June," June said.

"I know," Abigail grinned and went to tuck Jack into bed, leaving June to try and remember what it was she was going to do. _Oh my satchel._ She headed over to Finnegan and grabbed her bag, heading back to the tent, but paused just when she got inside, hearing the sound of clinking spurs.

"I got my eyes on you, miss _Harlow,_ " John poked his head in before disappearing again. June ground her teeth together in anger and stuck her head out of the tent, hissing at him with as much venom in her voice as she could manage,

"You better! Or else I may shoot you in the head while you keep watch!" June huffed and rummaged through her satchel, finding her box of knives and admiring them for a moment. _Would Father approve of me doing this? Joining a gang? How would he see these people? I like them. They're kind and easy to talk to. Well...most of them anyway._

June closed her eyes and soon enough, she fell asleep, dreaming of fire burning a willow tree, ashes flying wildly about while a wolf with three scars sat and watched with hatred in it's eyes.

[Next Chapter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460550/chapters/69740856#workskin)


	4. Hot-Headed

**_Kindly Persuade Him Otherwise_ **

"I'm not gonna do such a thing, mister Marston. I have no reason to," June said to him with reassurance. She managed a kind smile, though she was practically screaming inside. _How dare he accuse her?_ He simply scoffed at her words and peered at her through half-lidded eyes. Dutch and Arthur were watching with interest, but didn't say a word, wanting to see how this would go.

"Surely, you come from a rich family when you talk like that. And _I_ don't trust no one who come from a rich family. They always end up tryin' to kill us," he scowled at her, making her raise her brows at him. 

"Now, I don't suppose that's fair. Sure, my _family_ may have some money somewhere. Not that _I've_ seen, but perhaps you're right. Perhaps to you, rich people are stupid and all the same, and like them, I'm going to turn your pretty face in to the police to get a reward of some sort. Rich people always want more money and more fame, wearing suits and dresses daily. Well, I have something to tell you, mister Marston. I may speak well, but it's the way I was raised, and I couldn't change that. So suppose you give me a chance, hmm? Let me stay a few days just to prove to you that I'm not going to run off and turn you people in. And how on earth could I trust _you_ _?_ For all I know, I'm walking right into a trap and _I'm_ the one that's about to get turned in," June raised her head and rode up ahead beside Dutch, who sent her a grin of approval. 

** *John's POV* **

He stared after her with his mouth open, gaping at what she just said. She had talked to him without a hint of fear, and for some reason, that made him both upset and feel small. As if she were the one looking down on him. It should have been the other way around. She should have been scared of _him._ The last person to have joined the gang was Micah, and he had his suspicions about him too. He watched as June rode up beside Dutch, who gave her an approving smile. 

What was Dutch trying to prove? That he could get anyone to join the gang? That he could charm this beautiful woman? John shook his head, kicking himself mentally. _Beautiful? Where'd you go and get a silly idea like that John?_ He rolled his eyes at himself and thought back to Abigail. She would have gotten along with the young woman too. She was smart and handled herself well against those O'Driscolls. Was he really scared of her?

"Well done miss," Dutch whispered to her, his glance towards John not going unnoticed. He clenched his hands around the reins of his horse and made sure the rim of his hat was covering his eyes. He didn't need the new girl knowing he was looking at her, his insides boiling with hatred. The leader was already taking an unusual liking to her, and John wasn't so sure how he could handle that. Him and Arthur had always fought for the place of favorite. But this? This was different. Dutch didn't know what he was getting himself into, and John vowed to keep an eye on the newcomer in case she decided to make a move with the law. Would Dutch really let her go after a good night's sleep? What if she ran to the law first thing in the morning, or snuck out when everyone was sleeping. He decided he was going to be the one standing watch, whether Dutch liked it or not.

** *June's POV* **

"Who's there?!" came a grumpy sounding voice from the dark. June could just make out a bigger figure standing in the shadows, holding a rifle of some sort as he pointed it at the group. June froze, but regained herself when Dutch dismissed him with a hand, "It's just us, Bill. Everyone still awake? I got some news to share." 

"I ain't too sure. I 'spect mostly everyone's still up," he went back to patrolling as they passed, Arthur helping June down from her horse. He gave her a small wink, making her flush in the cheeks and turn to follow Dutch through the rather large camp. It seemed as if more than a dozen people were in the gang, which surprised June because she had for one, never seen a gang or had anything to do with one, and two, it probably meant that they were more like...family if anything.

There was a small crackling fire with a few people surrounding it, someone playing guitar while the others sang or swayed to the music. _How jolly!_ June had never heard such music! All she ever had was her piano and violin, but the instrument that someone was holding looked bigger than what she had, still containing mostly the same strings and style. Everyone paused what they were doing, getting to their feet at the sight of Dutch.

"Attention! Attention everyone! I have someone I'd like to introduce you to! This here is June! She'll be stayin' with us for the night! I'd like you all to make her feel welcomed!" it was obvious that he made a lot of speeches, and as everyone listened in, June felt as though she were being watched, and not from the people who stood in front of her. She looked over her shoulder, gasping silently when she saw more people coming out of their tents, rubbing the sleep from their eyes as they joined the announcement. She didn't, however, realize that someone else was watching her from the dark, his three pale scars gleaming in the moonlight.

* * *

June was introduced to everyone in the camp, though some didn't seem to appreciate Dutch bringing in a woman of such class. It didn't go unnoticed the way she walked properly or the way she shook someone's hand. She wasn't the toughest of the group, that was for sure. Her first impression of Charles, Hosea, Javier, Sadie, Pearson, Tilly, and Mary-Beth were good. She liked them from the start and blushed when Hosea planted a loving kiss on the back of her hand, telling her it was a pleasure to have a _real_ lady around the camp, which earned him a playful smack from an older woman. 

Bill, Swanson, Strauss, and Molly didn't warm up to her at first, but that was fine. Her mother had once told her that she shouldn't think to be accepted by everyone. There were bound to be people who didn't like her in life. 

Dutch gave her a tour of the camp, which was hidden well enough for the many tents and wagons that were set up. It was a nice area on the cliff, looking over the lake below. Mountains stood high and mighty in the distance, the moon's light peeking over it halfway. The camp was full of light chatter and even some banter every now and then, and June for some reason couldn't help but feel like she belonged. She was offered a bowl of stew that Mr. Pearson had made and she kindly accepted, taking a spoonful and her eyes widened. She had never tasted something so...foreign. As though she had traveled to another time or place.

Every now and then she would look around for John, wondering to herself what made him so upset about her. _Why not just give me a chance?_ She came across a young boy then, his short brown locks swept across his forehead and his eyes wide with curiosity as he tilted his head at her, "Are you a princess?" June blinked, smiling down at him and shaking her head.

"No. Are you a prince?" she played along, kneeling down to his level. He giggled, drawing something in the dirt with a stick, though it was too dark for June to make out what it was.

"I'm Jack! I heard about a lost princess. I wonder what happened to her...Ma says she probably found a family to care for her. Pa don't think so," he seemed a bit more occupied on what he was doing to continue talking to her, so she got up and headed towards Dutch, who motioned for her to sit beside him. She did, resting her chin on her palm as she examined the camp again. It had quieted down just a bit, a few of the women heading off to bed. The men were drinking and eating by the fire, laughing every now and then at unheard stories and jokes.

"How you gettin' on?" the leader asked around a mouthful of stew. June grinned,

"It's certainly not what I imagined."

"Is that good or bad?" Dutch said with serious concern, his eyes widening at her words. She couldn't help but laugh,

"Trust me, it's good."

"Well how did you imagine it?" June thought about this for a moment before leaning in close and whispering,

"For one, I didn't expect _clean_ people. And two, you all seem real close." She sighed at the last part and picked at something under her nails. She could have sworn they had been clean before she left that morning. _My! Had it really only been that morning when I left?_ Time moved so fast, sometimes it didn't seem real.

"We ain't no dirty drunk men ma'am. And we're family. All of us. Now, best you get some rest. I'd like to take you for a ride tomorrow to speak about what is to become of you," he smiled and set down his bowl of food, offering her his hand, which she took shyly.

"John has kindly allowed you to sleep in his tent for the night. He told me to tell you he's sorry for his behavior earlier. He ain't always like that, I can assure you. He's just not been himself lately due to...well...I suppose it ain't my place," Dutch led her to a small tent, a beautiful bear skin spread on the ground to lie on. He tipped his hat to her and left her alone, listening to the soft chatter from the remaining people awake. She yawned, realizing she really was tired. Having left her satchel on her horse, which she had decided to call Finnegan, she walked back out, nearly running into someone. John stared at her with a shocked expression, almost looking...worried? She laughed nervously, not wanting to look him in the face, but then she remembered that it was his tent that she would be staying in and she opened her mouth to speak. He of course beat her to it, already assuming what she was going to say,

"Don't mention it. I'm just keepin' watch tonight. To make sure _you_ don't go scoping 'bout while everyone's sleepin'." He cleared his throat and walked away, his arm brushing against hers roughly. _He did that on purpose! That son of a-_

"Don't take it to heart. He's just a real pain in the ass. The only soft side you'll see of him is when he's talkin' to Jack," a stern-looking female emerged from the tent beside her, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched John lean on a tree nearby. She was lovely, her pale skin and almost black hair tied in a messy bun. She couldn't tell what color her eyes were in the dark, but June imagined they were hazel.

"Abigail Roberts. I'm Jack's mother. And that _stubborn mule_ there is...well...I ain't too sure actually," she shrugged and stuck out a hand, shaking June's with a smile. She then nodded and turned to a small Jack who was tugging on the hem of her dress.

"I'm June," June said.

"I know," Abigail grinned and went to tuck Jack into bed, leaving June to try and remember what it was she was going to do. _Oh my satchel._ She headed over to Finnegan and grabbed her bag, heading back to the tent, but paused just when she got inside, hearing the sound of clinking spurs.

"I got my eyes on you, miss _Harlow,_ " John poked his head in before disappearing again.

"I'm not going to do anythin'! How many times am I going to have to tell you?" she found herself talking to herself and rummaged through her satchel, finding her box of knives and admiring them for a moment. _Would Father approve of me doing this? Joining a gang? How would he see these people? I like them. They're kind and easy to talk to. Well...most of them anyway._

June closed her eyes and soon enough, she fell asleep, dreaming of a field of roses that she had to walk through to get to the other side, where a wolf with three scars stood, watching her closely.

[Next Chapter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460550/chapters/69740856#workskin)


	5. Hot-Headed

**_Change The Subject_ **

June turned to Arthur, giving him a soft smile, "So there are other women?" Noting she was changing the subject- rather thankful for it- he nodded enthusiastically,

"Yeah. You'll surely get along with Tilly and Mary-Beth. Not so sure about Ms. Grimshaw or Abigail, but who knows. They can be wild though!" Dutch laughed at that, leaving the matter of disrespecting June to John, who obviously didn't like being ignored considering he was grumbling under his breath again. June felt some pity for the man, even though he had assumed she was against them. But she supposed it wasn't such a bad thing to be wary of strangers. She herself still wasn't sure if she trusted these men, even though they were for reason very kind to her.

"You've got potential," Dutch glanced at her. _What was with this man and reading minds?_ She turned her attention to him, waiting for him to go on.

"You handled yourself pretty well for a woman back there. I'd say you've got some hidden skill, hmm?" he raised a brow at her questioningly and she smirked, pulling out a knife that she had kept in her boot in case something were to happen. He carefully took it in his hand and examined it, admiring the white wooden handle and blade. It was a decent sized knife that looked threatening enough to carry. She did wish she had a bigger one though. He gave it back to her and she placed it back in her hiding spot.

"I assume your father taught you how to use it? Where is he at, if ya don't mind my asking?" Dutch didn't seem like the kind of man that liked having secrets, and June couldn't blame him. Finding people to trust was hard to come by, but he had just met her, and she wasn't about to pour out her entire life on him. Especially because she planned on heading to town as soon as morning hit.

"He did, yes. And...I'm not sure where he is," she thought it was the simplest thing to say, but as she lied to the leader, she felt tears pricking in her eyes and had to look away, finding herself face-to-face with John. He must have ridden closer to hear better, considering he clearly didn't trust her. He narrowed his gaze at her, his dark chocolate eyes boring into her own with suspicion. When he rose to get closer to Dutch, she felt herself let out a breath, not having realizing she was holding it to begin with. 

"I'm sorry to hear that," Arthur frowned, making June smile softly and nod in thanks. She had never felt as comfortable with someone since her father was killed, but these men- at least Dutch and Arthur- somehow made her feel comforted and safe. She wondered what her mother would think or say if she knew she was heading to a gang's camp in the forest.

"Who's there?!" came a grumpy sounding voice from the dark. June could just make out a bigger figure standing int he shadows, holding a rifle of some sort as he pointed it at the group. June froze, but regained herself when Dutch dismissed him with a hand, "It's just us, Bill. Everyone still awake? I got some news to share." 

"I ain't too sure. I 'spect mostly everyone's still up," he went back to patrolling as they passed, Arthur helping June down from her horse. He gave her a small wink, making her flush in the cheeks and turn to follow Dutch through the rather large camp. It seemed as if more than a dozen people were in the gang, which surprised June because she had for one, never seen a gang or had anything to do with one, and two, it probably meant that they were more like...family if anything.

There was a small crackling fire with a few people surrounding it, someone playing guitar while the others sang or swayed to the music. _How jolly!_ June had never heard such music! All she ever had was her piano and violin, but the instrument that someone was holding looked bigger than what she had, still containing mostly the same strings and style. Everyone paused what they were doing, getting to their feet at the sight of Dutch.

"Attention! Attention everyone! I have someone I'd like to introduce you to! This here is June! She'll be stayin' with us for the night! I'd like you all to make her feel welcomed!" it was obvious that he made a lot of speeches, and as everyone listened in, June felt as though she were being watched, and not from the people who stood in front of her. She looked over her shoulder, gasping silently when she saw more people coming out of their tents, rubbing the sleep from their eyes as they joined the announcement. She didn't, however, realize that someone else was watching her from the dark, his three pale scars gleaming in the moonlight.

* * *

June was introduced to everyone in the camp, though some didn't seem to appreciate Dutch bringing in a woman of such class. It didn't go unnoticed the way she walked properly or the way she shook someone's hand. She wasn't the toughest of the group, that was for sure. Her first impression of Charles, Hosea, Javier, Sadie, Pearson, Tilly, and Mary-Beth were good. She liked them from the start and blushed when Hosea planted a loving kiss on the back of her hand, telling her it was a pleasure to have a _real_ lady around the camp, which earned him a playful smack from an older woman. 

Bill, Swanson, Strauss, and Molly didn't warm up to her at first, but that was fine. Her mother had once told her that she shouldn't think to be accepted by everyone. There were bound to be people who didn't like her in life. 

Dutch gave her a tour of the camp, which was hidden well enough for the many tents and wagons that were set up. It was a nice area on the cliff, looking over the lake below. Mountains stood high and mighty in the distance, the moon's light peeking over it halfway. The camp was full of light chatter and even some banter every now and then, and June for some reason couldn't help but feel like she belonged. She was offered a bowl of stew that Mr. Pearson had made and she kindly accepted, taking a spoonful and her eyes widened. She had never tasted something so...foreign. As though she had traveled to another time or place.

Every now and then she would look around for John, wondering to herself what made him so upset about her. _Why not just give me a chance?_ She came across a young boy then, his short brown locks swept across his forehead and his eyes wide with curiosity as he tilted his head at her, "Are you a princess?" June blinked, smiling down at him and shaking her head.

"No. Are you a prince?" she played along, kneeling down to his level. He giggled, drawing something in the dirt with a stick, though it was too dark for June to make out what it was.

"I'm Jack! I heard about a lost princess. I wonder what happened to her...Ma says she probably found a family to care for her. Pa don't think so," he seemed a bit more occupied on what he was doing to continue talking to her, so she got up and headed towards Dutch, who motioned for her to sit beside him. She did, resting her chin on her palm as she examined the camp again. It had quieted down just a bit, a few of the women heading off to bed. The men were drinking and eating by the fire, laughing every now and then at unheard stories and jokes.

"How you gettin' on?" the leader asked around a mouthful of stew. June grinned,

"It's certainly not what I imagined."

"Is that good or bad?" Dutch said with serious concern, his eyes widening at her words. She couldn't help but laugh,

"Trust me, it's good."

"Well how did you imagine it?" June thought about this for a moment before leaning in close and whispering,

"For one, I didn't expect _clean_ people. And two, you all seem real close." She sighed at the last part and picked at something under her nails. She could have sworn they had been clean before she left that morning. _My! Had it really only been that morning when I left?_ Time moved so fast, sometimes it didn't seem real.

"We ain't no dirty drunk men ma'am. And we're family. All of us. Now, best you get some rest. I'd like to take you for a ride tomorrow to speak about what is to become of you," he smiled and set down his bowl of food, offering her his hand, which she took shyly.

"John has kindly allowed you to sleep in his tent for the night. He told me to tell you he's sorry for his behavior earlier. He ain't always like that, I can assure you. He's just not been himself lately due to...well...I suppose it ain't my place," Dutch led her to a small tent, a beautiful bear skin spread on the ground to lie on. He tipped his hat to her and left her alone, listening to the soft chatter from the remaining people awake. She yawned, realizing she really was tired. Having left her satchel on her horse, which she had decided to call Finnegan, she walked back out, nearly running into someone. John stared at her with a shocked expression, almost looking...worried? She laughed nervously, not wanting to look him in the face, but then she remembered that it was his tent that she would be staying in and she opened her mouth to speak. He of course beat her to it, already assuming what she was going to say,

"Don't mention it. I'm just keepin' watch tonight. To make sure _you_ don't go scoping 'bout while everyone's sleepin'." He cleared his throat and walked away, his arm brushing against hers roughly. _He did that on purpose! That son of a-_

"Don't take it to heart. He's just a real pain in the ass. The only soft side you'll see of him is when he's talkin' to Jack," a stern-looking female emerged from the tent beside her, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched John lean on a tree nearby. She was lovely, her pale skin and almost black hair tied in a messy bun. She couldn't tell what color her eyes were in the dark, but June imagined they were hazel.

"Abigail Roberts. I'm Jack's mother. And that _stubborn mule_ there is...well...I ain't too sure actually," she shrugged and stuck out a hand, shaking June's with a smile. She then nodded and turned to a small Jack who was tugging on the hem of her dress.

"I'm June," June said.

"I know," Abigail grinned and went to tuck Jack into bed, leaving June to try and remember what it was she was going to do. _Oh my satchel._ She headed over to Finnegan and grabbed her bag, heading back to the tent, but paused just when she got inside, hearing the sound of clinking spurs.

"I got my eyes on you, miss _Harlow,_ " John poked his head in before disappearing again. June rolled her eyes and rummaged through her satchel, finding her box of knives and admiring them for a moment. _Would Father approve of me doing this? Joining a gang? How would he see these people? I like them. They're kind and easy to talk to. Well...most of them anyway._

June closed her eyes and soon enough, she fell asleep, dreaming of a wolf with three scars bounding after a doe in the moonlight.

[Next Chapter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460550/chapters/69740856#workskin)


	6. Bitter Coffee

June wasn't sure if it was the cold or the deadly silence that woke her. She sat up in the bed roll she had borrowed and blinked away her sleepiness. If she listened closely, she could hear the gentle crackling of a fire, and as she carefully peeked outside the tent, she spotted a figure resting against a tree nearby, head lowered and hat covering his face. But she already knew who it was. She felt the pit of her stomach drop as she remembered the way he had treated her not too long ago. She wondered what it was that made him seem so heartless. _Perhaps he just needs to warm up to me._ June chewed on her bottom lip and crawled outside, the brisk air greeting her. He was supposedly supposed to be on patrol, so she made her way over to him, intending on confronting him about his temper with her. But when she stood in front of him, looking down upon his now gentle features, she realized he was sleeping.

"So much for patrolling, mister Marston," June chuckled to herself, kneeling down to get a better look at him. His hat was hiding most of his face, but she could still make out his pale scars and stubbled cheeks. He was breathing softly, his chest moving up and down carefully. She shivered from the cold and went back to the tent to grab the large wool blanket that she had been using. She had never felt something so comfortable before, and as she came back to John, she slumped down beside him. Nothing stirred except the soft blowing leaves in the trees and their breathing. June could hear someone snoring rather loudly from the other side of camp too, but she kept still. She wasn't sure why she was sitting next to the strange man, but she didn't think much about it.

It must have been at least an hour that passed before she felt herself falling asleep again, her head lolling to the side and her eyes beginning to droop heavily. The stars lit up the sky like millions of fireflies, glowing brilliantly beside the penny-like moon. It was the last thing she saw before she fell asleep once more.

* * *

_June was standing on tracks, the wood that connected the iron rods burnt and splintered. The lighting was a dull grey, as if clouds were hovering above. But the sky was clear and shone a fiery amber. She started along the track, her legs starting to ache within the first few steps. It felt like she was trudging through thick mud and needles were pricking her feet as she stepped. There was a blinding white light ahead of her, suddenly filling her entire vision before she heard it. The whistle of a train, the rushing of cranking wheels and the smoke came into view, black and billowing like a shadow over her. She couldn't move and she opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out._

_It was going to hit her. She was going to get ran over and she couldn't do anything about it. Tears spilled from her eyes as she watched in horror, the engine coming closer and closer. Just as it was within a mere foot of her, she was pushed off the track, stumbling to stay on her feet but failing as she fell. Something large stood over her and chocolate eyes met hers. It removed itself from her chest and before she could see what it was, it slunk into the bushes, disappearing into the forest and leaving her to watch the rest of the train rush by._

* * *

"What the _hell_ are you doing out here?!" came a stern but hushed voice beside her, making her jerk awake and cover her face from the sunlight that was coming over the mountain in the distance. She took in her surroundings, finding that she was outside. _How did I get out here?_ She glanced up, meeting a familiar pair of eyes. _Where have I see those eyes before?_ June's stomach flipped suddenly as everything came back to her. _John!_ She had fallen asleep beside him, her head resting on his shoulder now as he stared down at her in shock and annoyance. She wasn't sure whether to move or not, feeling like she was caught in the act. It wasn't _her_ fault though. She didn't expect to fall asleep on him. 

The blanket she had brought outside was draped around the two of them messily and she slowly went to sit up, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. _Shit shit shit!_

"Why ain't you sleepin' in the tent?" John's voice was softer now as she removed herself, grabbing the blanket and rolling it up clumsily. She opened her mouth to say something, but she was cut off by a gruff voice,

"Well this sure is a sight, hmm?" Arthur grinned down at the two of them, raising his brows questioningly. John stumbled to his feet, shoving Arthur back and stomping towards the fire. June lowered her gaze to the ground, ashamed of herself. Why did she let herself fall asleep? Why did she go outside in the first place? Why hadn't she gone back to the tent when she saw he was sleeping? These questions ran through her head as she watched John serve himself coffee, taking a sip and instantly spitting it out and gagging,

"What's in this?! Pearson! What did you do to the coffee?!" Arthur snickered at his outburst and turned to June, frowning as her appearance. He would be lying if he said she wasn't a mess. Parts of her hair were in lumps of tangles and her face was practically covered in dirt. She hadn't even been here for a day and she was getting dirty.

"Ah, don't worry 'bout Marston. He'll come around. He's just bein' a sour ass 'cause Abigail," he jerked a thumb towards the woman's tent and shrugged. She liked the nice lady she had met last night. She seemed to be the only one so far that understood her. She nodded at Arthur, who put a reassuring hand on her shoulder,

"Trust me. Just give him some time." And with that, he walked off towards the campfire that was being fed more wood. She managed a soft smile as she watched John kick at a couple rocks and settle down in front of the flames. He truly was stubborn, wasn't he? Rolling her eyes to herself, she grabbed her box of knives from the tent and headed to the group that was now gathering around for their morning coffee, which may or may not have been as bitter as John made it out to be.

"-seen such a beautiful creature! Hey, what's wrong with you John? You look more pissed than usual," the one June knew as Hosea spoke up, peering down at the young man. She silently took a spot at the table that was a good few yards away from the man she had woken up besides. John didn't respond, his eyes lingering on June as she looked away a little too fast. When she looked back, he wasn't looking at her anymore, but she could have sworn she saw a hint of a smile on his lips.

"How'd ya sleep?" Abigail sat across from her, holding a cup of coffee and giving her a smile. June bit her bottom lip, not quite sure how to respond to that. She just shrugged and stirred the stew she had served herself in the platter. Maybe she could cook every now and then for the camp. Surely someone would have to appreciate her food. She made a mental note to talk to Pearson later about it.

"Mind if I ask ya somethin'?" Abigail asked, tilting her head. June looked at her curiously,

"Sure."

"You don't have to answer if ya don't want to, but...how'd you find the guts to trust Dutch last night? I mean...three men you didn't know..." she trailed off, cuing June to respond. June had thought about this last night, but she wasn't so sure herself. She could have been in huge trouble if she had chosen the wrong people to trust, but perhaps it was just the gut feeling? They had after all saved her life. 

"I ain't sure. I suppose it was his charm," June grinned and Abigail laughed, earning a few looks from the group around the fire. Hosea joined the two of them, nodding at June in acknowledgment. 

"He does have charm, that's for sure," he agreed, "Dutch was tellin' me that you handled yourself pretty well yesterday?" June smirked and pulled her favorite knife from her boot, handing it to the older man to examine. He tenderly brushed a finger over the engravings and held the blade up to his eyes, gawking at it's beauty. June didn't notice John walk up behind her until he scoffed,

"A woman of your _class?!_ Ain't no way you know how to use a knife!" Her insides twisted and her skin burned with rage and before she knew it, she had spun around, holding the knife blade to John's throat and baring her teeth at him. _Who does he think he is? Talking to me like he knows every God damn thing about me! I'll show him not to mess with me! I've had enough!_ John's eyes went wide and he put his hands up, but June didn't lower her knife. Everyone was watching the two of them, some quietly making wagers with one another.

"You don't know _any_ thing about me, mister Marston. I reckon your mama dropped you on your head when you were an infant! If I were you, I'd learn some manners! I'm sure I'm not the only one who wants to shove a pair of boar's balls down your throat," and with that, June slammed her knife on the table and stormed away, making her way through the trees and out of sight. _What is wrong with that man? Why can't he just leave me be?_

Tears lined her cheeks as she came to a nice clearing, dropping herself on the ground and leaning against a large oak tree. She hadn't asked for this. She was supposed to be leaving today. But at the same time...she was finding it impossible to think about. Why would she leave? There was nothing out there for her. She couldn't get a job, unless she wanted to play piano in a pub and make money that way. But she knew that wasn't clean work, especially with the men that assumed they could do anything with a woman like her.

She thought of her father then, the way his lips would probably curl down in a frown at her actions. She had followed three men to their camp with trust. Yes, they had saved her, but anything could have happened. Hell, she could have been raped and tortured for all she knew! She was lucky to still be alive. But it must have meant something. Finding those men must have been important, otherwise she wouldn't be anywhere near the gang. 

June brought her knees to her chest to keep herself from shaking and falling apart completely. Her mother was dying. Her father was already dead. She had no one but herself. Her horse came into view, most likely having felt her sadness and moved his head down to snuffle her hair. She laughed lightly and stroked his muzzle,

"I have you at least, boy." The horse whinnied as if in response and she grabbed an apple from his saddle bag and fed it to him. Sitting back down, she recalled memories of her father. they seemed to be fading every year she grew older, as if blurring ever so slightly until she could no longer see him. There was one memory she hoped to never forget though. One where he first taught her how to use her knives.

* * *

_"Now you must stand very still and make sure to hold the knife tightly. There you go. Now, position yourself to where you want to throw and pull your wrist back like...mhmm. And...THROW!" her father instructed her. June watched the knife fly through the air spinning and spinning until it landed to the left of the tree trunk she had been aiming for._

_"I did it I did it!" she cheered, jumping and twirling about. She was captured and lifted into the air, gigging as her father spun her around. He set her down and handed her another, and she threw that one, landing it to the right of the trunk this time._

_"Well done! Soon enough you'll be better than me at aiming!" he grinned and went to collect the dozen of knives she had already thrown, having missed the first ten. When he came back, he kneeled before her and removed something from his pocket, revealing a white handle and long silver blade. She looked up at her father and wrapped her little arms around his waist, burying her face in his shirt._

_"I'll take good care of it, Father."_

* * *

"Ah, I thought I might find you here," came a deep voice and June jumped out of her dream-like state. She raised her eyes to see Dutch standing there, his lips spread across his face in a smile. She breathed a sigh of relief, having thought it would be John at first. Why would he be the one to come and apologize though?

"Mind if I?" Dutch gestured to the spot and June shifted over to make room for him as he sat beside her. He picked at the dirt beneath his fingernails for a moment before speaking, "I know you ain't been here long enough to know us...but I'd be lyin' if I said I didn't think you fit in here. I keep sayin' you can handle yourself well, and I'll keep sayin' it 'til you prove me wrong. I...I had to ask you somethin'....Miss Harlow, would ya stay? I-I understand if you want to go, but-"

"It's awfully kind of you, mister Van Der Linde...but I don't think I belong here. You have a wonderful family and all, and I would never do anything to hurt them....But I have no one. As a matter of fact, I've never felt more alone," June bit down hard on her bottom lip to keep from crying and she turned away from the older man so he didn't see the tears in her eyes. To her surprise, he took her hand gently in his own and she looked back into his face.

"I'd have to disagree, miss. You may be a woman of class and it ain't as if you was raised to be anythin' more, but I see somethin' in you I haven't for a long time. Heck, not since I picked Arthur up as a young boy," he chuckled. June felt her cheeks flushed and she couldn't help the grin that played on her lips.

"I don't want to intrude..." June shook her head, but Dutch just pulled her up to her feet, allowing her to brush herself off before replying with,

"Your intrusion is more than welcomed! Now come on, let's get you situated and settled in, hmm? How does that sound?" And just like the night before, June wasn't sure what made her want to stay. She wasn't sure if this feeling was good or bad, but she felt like it had to be followed. It couldn't be ignored.

"Sounds like a plan."

[Next Chapter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460550/chapters/69740874#workskin)


	7. Few Days In

** *John's POV* **

"I want you to take her out to get herself a horse," Dutch was telling John, crossing his arms as the scarred man grumbled and looked across the camp at June Harlow. _Why me? Not like we even get along._ Dutch raised a brow at him, waiting for an answer, but John clenched his jaw hard, shaking his head,

"No. I don't like her, and I ain't sure if you've noticed, but she ain't too interested in me either." John had listened to the way June spoke to everyone around the camp; as though she was apart of it. Arthur enjoyed her company far too much and Abigail was constantly whispering with her about him! Why should he have to take her to get a horse? And why did she need one anyway? Wasn't she supposed to be leaving?

"Son, you haven't even given her a chance. That ain't fair," Dutch frowned, handing him the lasso he had in his hand. _Of course I don't have a choice. God damn woman is gonna be the end of me._ John snatched it from his hands and rolled his eyes, marching over to where June was seated among the grass beside Arthur, who was sketching in his journal.

"You have a real talent, Arthur!" she chimed, nudging him playfully in the arm. Morgan grinned and tore out the drawing of what looked to be the river and the mountains in the distance. He handed it to her and she gasped, running a finger along the markings in admiration.

"Thank you! I'm gonna hang this up on my wagon," she smiled and put the drawing carefully in her pocket. John's fingers tightened around the rope as he looked at the two, baring his teeth and snapping much like a viscous dog,

"I'm to take you to get a horse, Ms. Harlow." June jumped at the sound of his order and turned to Arthur, who shrugged and gave her a small smile. He then planted a ginger kiss on the back of her hand, making her blush before she got to her feet and dusted herself off.

* * *

** *June's POV* **

"I could do with a horse," she said, heaving a sigh. She really didn't want to go with John, and Arthur seemed to sense this because he got to his feet too, putting his hat on.

"I could come too, if you'd like," he smiled at June, who returned the gesture. John scoffed and motioned to June,

" _I_ was told to take her." Arthur just laughed,

"I don't see the harm in comin' along too. Not to mention if somethin' happens, I do have a better aim than you. What do ya think, June? Your call."

** *Choice* **

[Have Arthur come along too](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460550/chapters/69740892#workskin)

[Go with John only](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460550/chapters/69740934#workskin)


	8. Few Days In

**_Have Arthur Come Along Too_ **

"I don't see the harm in it either. Come on you two!" June chuckled and headed towards Arthur's horse, knowing he would be the one to offer her the ride. She had ridden with him quite a bit since she had officially been apart of the gang. She hadn't quite decided if she would leave and make a life of her own yet, but she assumed she wouldn't. She liked the gang too much and had gotten to know each and every one of them well. Hosea and Sadie Adler were close to her; Hosea teaching her how to use a gun, and Sadie teaching her how to pester the men. Pearson adored her, always showing her how he liked to cook and how he made his best stews. She had learned quite a bit from him and had even taught him a few tricks, such as dicing vegetables and seasoning meat just right. 

"-ridin' with me," Arthur was saying to John, "She don't even like you. Why should she ride with you?" June tilted her head at the two and shook her head. John was grumbling as he mounted his horse and Arthur helped June up on his own. They started down the path, John taking the lead as Arthur and June laughed about his grumpy side. 

"Would you two shut up?" John called from behind him, making June and Arthur burst into more bubbly laughter. They were enjoying pissing him off, that was for sure. June wondered if he would ever lighten up about anything, but shrugged off the idea as Arthur pointed ahead.

"There are a couple beauties up there. John, hold up here. See which horse June wants," he chimed, getting the scarred man's attention. He rode up beside them and tossed Arthur the rope,

"You catch it and she mounts up. Which one you want, Ms. Harlow?" _At least he's giving me a choice!_ June thought to herself as she scanned the horses. There was a lovely chestnut-brown one, cream-colored, and sleek black one. June pointed to the cream-colored and Arthur grinned,

"Alright. The Clydesdale it is! I'll get 'im for ya." And June watched as the man dismounted and approached the herd quietly, making sure to keep hidden until he was close enough. John was picking at the dirt beneath his nails as he managed to lasso it, calling June over. She jumped off his horse and made an approach carefully, putting her hands up and cooing gently to the large animal. She finally got close enough and hoisted herself up, holding on tightly as it bucked and kicked her off. She fell in the grass with a grunt and glared as John burst into laughter.

"What are you laughin' at _Marston?!_ " June snapped, getting back up and mounting again. This time she was tossed about, but kept herself on as the horse settled. Arthur clapped and led the horse over to John, who was gawking at her. 

"Well I'll be. Alright, you fell off at first, which was hilarious. But I'll hand it to ya, you did pretty good," John said, though his tone was unimpressed as he turned and headed back towards camp. Arthur mounted his horse, making sure to keep the lasso in his grip tightly in case the horse bucked again. He didn't though, for June was stroking his mane and whispering sweet little nothings to him.

"He's a fine animal," Arthur stated, grinning widely at her. She held her chin up proudly as they walked through camp, Dutch approaching them and clapping his hands. June got off her new horse, which she decided to call Misty. He burred and nuzzled at her hair as she fed him an apple Arthur had handed her.

"Nice job, Ms. Harlow!" Dutch praised, patting Arthur on the shoulder, "I take it you lassoed the creature?" Arthur shrugged and smirked at June, but she was looking around for John to thank him for taking her, but the man was already gone, leaving her frowning.

[Next Chapter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460550/chapters/69740949#workskin)


	9. Few Days In

**_Go With John Only_ **

"I think I should just go with Marston. Don't want to be on his bad side," June whispered the last part, but it didn't go unnoticed by John, who was already starting towards his horse. Arthur snickered and nodded, allowing her to go on her way. She really did want him to go with her, at least for some balance, but she also wanted to get to know John on a more personal level. Maybe he wouldn't hate her so much if she stopped gossiping about him with Arthur and Abigail. Especially when he could clearly hear it.

"Here," John reached down to help her up when he mounted his horse, the lovely brown animal with the white mane. She loved his horse and often snuck over to feed it an apple every once in a while. It had seen her approaching and turned its head towards her, nuzzling her hand softly as if looking for a treat. She giggled at the creature, stroked its muzzle, and got up on the horse. John was peering at her questioningly,

"Now why does Old Boy act like that towards you?" June just shrugged as he held the reins and started on the dirt road, her chest pressed against his back. She had her arms wrapped around his waist, feeling his muscle beneath his shirt. She blushed, thankful that he couldn't see her and cleared her throat,

"So, Abigail tells me you got scratched up by some wolves?" Granted, it wasn't the best topic, but she didn't know John that well and she suspected he didn't want to be asked questions about Jack or his peculiar relationship with Abigail. She had already heard that they weren't really together, at least officially, but she couldn't help but feel curious. He nodded,

"That's right." June hesitated before speaking softly,

"You were probably real brave. I don't know what I'd do if a pack of wolves was on me." John tensed at her words and lowered his head slightly. She could just make out his pale scars running across his cheek as he stopped Old Boy,

"Thank you. I ain't so sure I was, but thank you. There, up on the hill. See one you like?" June shifted her gaze to the horses that were grazing on the hillside, and she caught sight of a lovely cream-colored one. She smiled,

"How about that Clydesdale?" John laughed lightly and pulled out his lasso.

"Someone knows there horses," he trotted up to the hill, making sure to keep his distance.

"I try," June stated proudly as he managed to lasso the horse.

"Alright, you're turn. get on up there. Be careful. Don't want ya fallin' off. Though that would be somethin' to laugh at," was he teasing her? June refrained from punching him in the arm and dismounted, approaching the horse calmly and carefully. It reared up and she stepped back, looking towards John. He nodded and she drew in a deep breath before mounting as soon as it landed with a soft _thump_ again. The animal kicked and bucked, but as John instructed her to keep her balance and hold on tight, she managed to soothe the creature, patting it's neck and grinning.

"I did it!" June chuckled as John led the horse down the road again. 

"That you did," John said, impressed by her performance. She flushed at the pride in his voice, but it was gone as he headed down the path and back to camp. 

"What're you gonna name him?" John asked her. June was surprised that he had actually initiated a nice conversation, and she smiled, patting the cream horse.

"I was thinking either Buck or Misty," she said. John thought for a moment,

"I like Misty." 

"Then Misty it is," June smiled, glad she had taken a ride with the famous John Marston.

[Next Chapter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460550/chapters/69740997#workskin)


	10. Son of a Bitch

**_Arthur To Come Along Too_ **

June had put a saddle and cleaned up Misty before heading to the cliff to find Arthur, where he was admiring the view peacefully. It was a nice spot because nobody usually disturbed it, except her of course, but he didn't mind that. They had become quite close friends over the past few days, and she was glad to have someone to talk to. He was an honest man, that was for sure, and she wondered every now and then if their friendship would grow into something more. _Probably not. Not after what he's told me about Mary. He still has a chance with her._ _If she every forgave him that is. But judging by his own words and description of her character, she would be the one to forgive him._

"That was some pretty good ridin' you did back there," Arthur chimed when she sat beside him in the soft grass. He laughed and shook his head, "Except the part where you fell off." June shoved him playfully and blushed,

"Shut up." They sat in silence for a bit before Arthur cleared his throat and removed something from his pocket, running a hand over it before glancing at her.

* * *

** *Arthur's POV* **

_This woman really is somethin' else. I certainly wouldn't mind it if she felt somethin' for me. Highly unlikely, but if she did...Mary left me long ago. I doubt she'd ever love me again after leavin' her. Not to mention that drunk man she calls a father. He wouldn't want to have me back, that's for damn sure. But June Shirley Harlow? She may not be Mary, but she's just as daring and beautiful as her. I went and made her a carving. Maybe I'll get my answer when I give it to her. Not that I expect it, but who knows? She certainly don't like John Marston very much...but if I know that scar-faced man as much as myself, I'd say he likes her. Sure has a funny way of showin' it, but I know how he first was with Abigail. This is no different. Those two would be quite a pair._ Arthur had written in his journal while she tended to her new horse. She had picked a good one in his opinion.

June had her head raised to the sky, probably counting all the stars and spotting any shapes they made when connecting the little dots. Her face was a lovely olive color in the light and her hair brushed across her face gently, as if kissing her cheeks. His heart was hammering against his chest as he ran a finger along the carving. 

"Hey, June?" Arthur spoke up, drawing in a slow steady breath as she turned to him with a smile. He opened the palm of his hand, revealing a beautiful owl-shaped piece of wood. She gasped in surprise and took it tenderly in her hands. It was so detailed, the large eyes looking back at her as it perched on a branch.

"When did you have time to make this, Arthur?" she asked him, admiring the little curves and strokes he had made for the wings. He shrugged and put his hat on, leaning his head on a rock with his arms to cushion it,

"I have my ways, June. I made it for you." June's eyes went wide and she felt her eyes prick with threatening tears. Nobody had ever done something so nice for her before, and she wrapped her arms around him tightly, knocking the air from him as he let out a low chuckle. She whispered a simple thank you, and before she could pull away, she heard a familiar scoff.

* * *

** *June's POV* **

She quickly removed herself from Arthur and looked up to see John Marston looking down at them, arms crossed as he leaned against a tree. 

"What a sight!" he said sarcastically, making June's skin bubble with anger. Arthur seemed to sense this as he sat up to defuse the situation,

"What're you blabberin' on about now, Marston?" The scar-faced man laughed dryly and picked a piece of link from his shoulder, taking a step towards them.

"Nothin'. Just thought you two looked cute together is all," he rolled his eyes and found himself looking right into a pair of chcocolate-brown orbs, full of guilt and sadness. June fiddled with the carving in her hand and stared back at him as if she had been caught in the act. _Why does he always have to ruin such good moments?_

June watched as the two wrestled before taking it upon herself to break them apart, hissing at them,

"Enough! What has gotten _into_ you two!?" Arthur took a step back, brushing himself off of John's filth and shook his head. John was huffing, staring daggers into the blonde man's eyes. Then he shifted his gaze and looked at June, straightening himself and gesturing towards Arthur,

"You better be careful with him." June raised a brow, confused.

"What are you _talkin'_ about?!" she was trembling, shaking with anger and embarrassment. _Who does he think he is? Waltzing in on a good moment and pretending like he cares about my well being?_ Arthur laughed dryly and put his hands on his hips, tucking his thumbs into his belt.

"I knew it," he stated, puffing out his chest and advancing towards John, "You're too afraid. Is that it, Marston? You're scared to be pushed away again. And why shouldn't ya? You're a real sack a shit!" He pointed menacingly at him and got close up to his face, baring his teeth in an attempt to make a point. 

"What the hell do you know?!" John snarled back, the two seeming to have forgotten that June was standing there. Arthur made a face like John had just grown a second head and threw his arms up in frustration,

"I've known you _long_ enough John Marston! I know when you've found an interest in somethin'! So quit _pesterin'_ me about it!" Arthur brushed past him, making sure to nudge him roughly. But John wasn't finished. He spun around and said loudly,

"What are you _talkin'_ about, Arthur?!" Arthur stopped, turned around, and pointed a finger at him,

"You know what the fuck I'm talkin' about. And I suggest you talk to _her_ about it instead a bein' a God damn _coward!_ " With that, Arthur sent an apologetic look to June and stormed off to the end of camp, where Dutch stopped him and asked him probably about what just happened. June watched as he disappeared into his set up and turned to John slowly, his breathing heavy as he looked after Arthur too. _What was that all about?_ She wondered to herself, putting the carving Arthur had given her in her pocket. 

"John?" June whispered, taking a step towards him. He flinched back when she placed a hand on his arm, and she withdrew awkwardly. _What is he so worked up about?_ _Why can't he just look me in the eyes?_

"What's wrong?" she tried again, wishing Arthur was beside her. But she had to talk to him. He had been so disapproving of her and she didn't think it was fair. Sure, Bill didn't seem to like her in the beginning, but at least he was warming up to her somewhat. he had even praised her for doing some work around the camp. But this was different. John Marston was different.

"Nothin's wrong. Nothin'! It's you! Everything became shit when you showed up, and now I have to pay for it!" John grumbled and stared at her, those chcocolate-brown eyes looking straight through her. She frowned deeply, and he tensed up at her expression. 

"I never asked for this, John Marston. I was just lookin' for a fresh start. I was hopin' you and I would get along," June scoffed at her own words and shook her head, turning around to walk away, "But I guess I was wrong. And so was Dutch. I don't belong here." And she was gone, heading to her tent and leaving John Marston alone with the chirping of crickets.

[Next Chapter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460550/chapters/69741012#workskin)


	11. Son of a Bitch

**_Go With John Only_ **

June had put a saddle and cleaned up Misty before she turned to walk into camp, nearly bumping into John. She stumbled a bit, but he grabbed her by the elbows, keeping her upright as she realized how close they now were. She could smell the alcohol and pine on him as she slowly straightened herself, staring into those deep chocolate-brown eyes. He stared back, his warm breath tickling her face,

"You alright, Ms. Harlow?"

"Mhmm..." she nodded and noticed her hands were placed on his chest. She became warm and quickly let go, him following suit as she lowered her head. She could have sworn she heard him chuckle quietly, making her raise her head to look at him.

"I had a nice time," John whispered, the tips of his lips curling into a hint of a smile. She licked her lips subconsciously and looked over his features. His pale scars, three, all lined up went from his jawline up to the side of his nose. His skin was sun-kissed and his hair went down to his shoulders, a dark brown like his eyes. His stubble grew along his jaw chin and up his cheeks, avoiding the scars as if to show them off. 

"I did too," June smiled softly as his eyes traced her features as well. They had a moment of silence, staring into one another's eyes as footsteps approached. Neither seemed to notice until Dutch cleared his throat and spoke,

"So, I take it you two had a good time?" John and June, feeling caught in the act for some odd reason, jumped away from each other to distance themselves, John rubbing the back of his neck while June lowered her head to hide her red cheeks.

"Got a new horse I see! Good work you two," Dutch clapped John on the shoulder, sending him a sly wink and giving June an appreciated smile before walking back further into camp. _Jesus. That man gave me a heart attack!_ She looked up at John, who was fidgeting with something in his satchel. He pulled out a small bouquet of flowers and brushed a finger over the petals lightly before handing them to her. She took the beautiful lilies carefully, keeping her eyes on John. She had thought he was a stubborn man, as Abigail had put in her head anyway, but now he was giving her flowers? And when had he picked them? How had they managed to not get crumpled up in his bag? And why was he looking at her like that?

"I uh...they were growin' too close to my tent...I have allergies..." he coughed and turned to walk away, but she grabbed his arm and he stopped, glancing back at her. She bit her bottom lip for a beat before standing on her tiptoes and planting a ginger kiss on his cheek. Right against his pale scars. The right side of his lip twitched upwards in a lop-sided smirk and he tipped his hat and headed towards the fire of the camp. June's heart fluttered as she admired the flowers that John Marston had given her.

[Next Chapter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460550/chapters/69741021#workskin)


	12. Revealing

June had been dreaming of a pair of familiar amber eyes, seeming to stare at her in anger as she woke with a fright. She clutched her knife to her chest, breathing deeply as she took in her surroundings.

"Ms. Harlow? You alright?" Arthur poked his head into her tent and she jumped at the sight of him. 

"How'd you-" she cut herself off, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

"I uh...heard ya scream?" he said as if it were obvious. She drew in a steady breath and brought the blanket up to her chin. She could still see the creature's bright orbs glaring at her as the shooting rang in her ears. Tears pricked at her eyes as her father dropped dead before her. She had screamed that day when she saw him fall limp on the ground. She supposed it made sense that she had screamed when waking up too. But what had those amber eyes been? As if someone had been watching everything play out.

"Right. I'm alright, Arthur," she shook her head and slipped on her boots, getting to her feet and clumsily walking outside beside Arthur. He frowned at her and nodded, removing his hand and looking down at his hands.

"I'm sorry. About earlier. I know you like John and I didn't mean-" June cut him off with a hand and snorted,

"I don't _like_ John."

"Oh. Well," Arthur rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and she crossed her arms over her chest, quirking a brow. She recalled what he had said to John earlier, and she also knew he had something on his mind.

"Arthur? What aren't you telling me?" June's face fell as she examined his features. He was very handsome in her opinion, and she wondered how he hadn't been scooped up by someone yet. _Maybe he doesn't want someone after Mary._ _Poor Arthur._

"Ain't it obvious? John. He....I....Oh, it don't matter. Need me to stay with ya?" Arthur put his hat back on and gestured to her tent. June couldn't help blushing as she shook her head,

"I'm fine. Really. I'll see you in the morning, alright?" Arthur nodded and headed back towards the dying fire. _What have I gotten myself into?_ June asked herself as she clambered back onto her cot and fell asleep.

* * *

"I'm leaving Arthur," June told him the next day when they were sitting on the cliff-side again. He stopped drawing whatever he was drawing and turned to her sharply.

"What do you mean you're _leavin'?_ " he snapped, his tone making her flinch. She rolled her eyes though and looked out to the lake below.

"I don't belong here," she said softly, thinking back to what John had said.

"Don't belong?! What the Hell you talkin' 'bout!" Arthur was on his feet now, kicking a rock and putting his hands on his hips as he stared down at her. She was on her feet too, glaring back at him. She had already thought it all through last night after her nightmare, considering she hadn't been able to go back to sleep. John was right. She didn't belong in a gang of outlaws. She had to go back home.

"I mean what I said, Mr. Morgan! I was wrong! Dutch was wrong! I'm not an outlaw, and I can't pretend!" she started walking past him, but he gripped her arm, spinning her back around to face him. His blue eyes shot into hers like a bucket of cold water and she shivered under his gaze.

"You can't go. Just 'cause Marston told ya-"

"Marston didn't tell me anything! It's _my_ choice! I already packed my bags, Arthur. I'm leaving right now and going back home where I _do_ belong," she shrugged his hold off and stormed over to her tent, grabbing her satchel and making her way over to Misty. _I don't belong here. I know what I'm doing. I trust my judgement. **But what if you do belong? What happens when you get home and can't get the gang out of your head? Are you going to go back?** No. I'm going to stay put. **Your mother told you to leave. To start a new life.** This isn't it. I'll find it somewhere else. **You can't go back home.** I know. I'll go to Valentine. I know what I'm doing._

"June wait!" Arthur's voice called out to her. But she was already gone, leaving him staring after her as the rest of the gang approached him to find out what on Earth just happened.

[Next Chapter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460550/chapters/69741045#workskin)


	13. Revealing

June had been dreaming of a pair of familiar amber eyes, seeming to stare at her in anger as she woke with a fright. She clutched her knife to her chest, breathing deeply as she took in her surroundings.

"Ms. Harlow? You alright?" John poked his head into her tent and she jumped at the sight of him. 

"How'd you-" she cut herself off, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

"I uh...heard ya scream?" he said as if it were obvious. She drew in a steady breath and brought the blanket up to her chin. She could still see the creature's bright orbs glaring at her as the shooting rang in her ears. Tears pricked at her eyes as her father dropped dead before her. She had screamed that day when she saw him fall limp on the ground. She supposed it made sense that she had screamed when waking up too. But what had those amber eyes been? As if someone had been watching everything play out.

"Right. I'm alright, Mister Marston," she shook her head and slipped on her boots, getting to her feet and clumsily walking outside beside John. He frowned at her and nodded, removing his hand and looking down at his hands. She smiled softly at him and tilted her head ever so slightly. The edge of his lips curled upwards and he cleared his throat,

"I was w-wonderin' if you'd like to...uh...maybe come with me on a little...robbery or somethin' tomorrow?" 

"Really?" June couldn't help the excitement in her voice as she grinned. She had wondered what it would be like to rob someone. Then again, it was very dangerous, and if she had to kill someone, she would rather not. Still, if John Marston was going to take her? Then count her in!

"I'd love to," she smirked, playing with the tip of her hair. John gulped and chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck and nodding.

"Alright then. I'll see ya in the mornin' then," he nearly tripped over a tree root on his way back to his post, making June burst into silent giggles. _Oh what is this man doing to me? I'm hardly here for a week and this man is already tearing his way into my heart? What has gotten into me?!_ She smiled as she watched him kick at a small rock before sitting down, no doubt cursing himself for offering her to come along. It was no secret that John Marston didn't really have a soft side, but June kind of liked his soft side. Arthur had told him that he could be a huge dick at times, but ever since their ride, she didn't see it so much anymore. ** _You're changing him._** _I doubt it._ Still, it didn't hurt to think of, and as June clambered onto her cot to go back to sleep, she found herself thinking about the strange scarred man and his amber orbs that stared right through her.

[Next Chapter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460550/chapters/69741060#workskin)


	14. More Scars

_Why did you leave June? You know you belong there._ ** _I don't belong there. I belong at home. Or anywhere but that gang. I'm not one of them and I never will be._** _You don't know that. How can you think that? What happened to fate? You were meant to be there. Arthur believed it too. **Not John though.** Who cares about John? He's the only one that didn't believe it. But so what? Dutch believed it! The leader of the gang believed it! Doesn't that mean something? Doesn't that _count _for something? **It's too late. I can't go back.** But you know you should._

June stopped in the middle of the road, clenching her reins tightly as she chewed on her bottom lip. _Where am I going to go? **Back. You have to go back. It's where you belong.** I don't belong among a gang of robbers and killers. **Why not?** I'm not like them. **Who said you have to be?** Well... **You belong there. You don't belong anywhere else.** But... **Go. Go back.**_

"June!" she heard a familiar voice behind her and anger boiled in her face. She snapped the reins and started at a gallop, knowing that he would catch up anyways. He pulled to her side, out of breath.

"Where the hell do you think you're goin'?" John snapped, glaring at her. She could feel the burning on the side of her neck as he stared. _Oh wait that's just the sun._

"Leaving. What's it look like?" she snarled, keeping her eyes ahead of her. She couldn't bear to look at that scarred face of his. 

"Why?" he asked, more softly this time.

"Because I-wait, why do you care? I was just listening to you!" June stopped Misty and looked into those chocolate-brown eyes of his. He frowned and stopped too.

"You should never listen to me. I'm a complete asshole. I-I'm sorry, alright? Everyone's worried 'bout you," he said, and June tensed up at his words. _Sorry? He was sorry?_ She tried to keep the smile off her face, but she was sure it was slightly visible. He chuckled and shook his head, glancing back in the direction of camp,

"God what a mess. Ride back with me?" 

"With you?" June felt the heat rise in her cheeks and he nodded, flicking his reins and starting off at a trot. She followed and blurted out,

"Are you and Abigail...uh...together?" 

"Why do you ask?" he sent her a skeptical look that sent a shiver down her spine. She lowered her gaze and shrugged,

"She doesn't seem to like you is all." John huffed,

"She don't. And no. I think we're done. She just wants me to take better care of the boy."

"Jack? He's a good kid," June hummed peacefully. John nodded again, but didn't say another word. 

"So why'd you leave your home again?" John asked after a long time of silence. June felt a lump in her throat and she rubbed the back of her neck.

"My mother was dying. She sent me out into the world after realizing...I have nothing," she frowned.

"Oh. And your father?" 

"Dead. Some men in law suits shot him when I was younger," she felt the tears prick in her eyes, but she held her head up, defying how lost she now felt. 

"I'm sorry," John said gently, and she knew that he meant it. Wanting to change the subject, she said,

"I can help you. With your son. I-I like children."

"What'd ya have in mind?" John questioned, seeming to understand she didn't want to talk about her past.

** *Choice* **

[Take Jack fishing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460550/chapters/69741078#workskin)

[Take Jack horse riding](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460550/chapters/69741102#workskin)


	15. More Scars

June grinned as John mumbled under his breath, cursing that his plan may not work after all.

"You alright there, Mr. Marston?" June teased lightly, moving Misty closer to him. He rolled his eyes and shot her a glare,

"Fine. There's gonna be more guards than I expected though. You sure you're ready for this, June?" June nodded and drew in a deep breath.

"Ready as I'll ever be. Why? Do you doubt me?" June smirked and started Misty at a gallop so she was ahead of John. He had already explained what she was to do, even if she was against it. She would keep watch while _he_ had all the fun robbing. He promised she wouldn't have to kill anyone, but she knew if she really had to, she would. A shiver ran up her spine though she was actually burning up. The heat from the sun fried her face, suggesting she would be burned later. She wished she had a hat and made a mental note to go out and buy one once she had money.

"I only doubt you'll be willin' to point a gun if you have no other choice," John shrugged. Bill Williamson and Javier had also come along, looking back and forth at the pair as they spoke to one another.

"Well. If I need to defend myself, I guarantee you I will. Haven't you seen me defend myself before?" June snapped, casting him a narrowed gaze. Sometimes he just went to far. Yes, she was a woman. Yes, she was new to this whole being part of a gang thing. But that didn't mean she couldn't handle herself. John just shrugged again and they came to the town. It was full of chatter and life. She had never been to Valentine before. Living in the country away from civilization had certainly not prepared her for the small town.

Several times drunk men stumbled in their path, some cat-calling her and making her frown. They came to the bank, hitching their horses on the other side. Bill cracked his knuckles and slung his rifle over his shoulder, tossing June a small pistol. She caught it clumsily and blinked at the small weapon in her hand. She wasn't used to using guns, which is why she had brought her knife.

"Just in case," he said. She nodded and tucked the gun in her pants, making sure his shirt was hiding it well. John jabbed a thumb over his shoulder and said,

"Bill and I will take the bank. You two keep watch." Javier grumbled and took June by the arm, pulling her to the side as Bill and John made their way to the front doors. _They shouldn't just barge in. They need a distraction! But then again...John will just get upset._

"That ain't what I'd do," Javier rubbed his stubbly chin and shook his head in disapproval. 

** *Choice* **

[Cause a distraction](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460550/chapters/69741135#workskin)

[Stay put](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460550/chapters/69741147#workskin)


	16. More Scars

**_Take Jack Fishing_ **

** *June's POV* **

"I say we take him fishing," June decided, smiling. John thought about this for a moment, then nodded and they started back towards camp. June was hesitant at first with the man that had spoken so harshly to her before, but she was growing to understand him more. He was just beaten down to the ground, and she was going to help him with that. And she would start by working on his relationship with Jack.

[Next Chapter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460550/chapters/69741192#workskin)


	17. More Scars

**_Take Jack Horse Riding_ **

"I say we take him riding," June decided, smiling. John thought about this for a moment, then nodded and they started back towards camp. June was hesitant at first with the man that had spoken so harshly to her before, but she was growing to understand him more. He was just beaten down to the ground, and she was going to help him with that. And she would start by working on his relationship with Jack.

[Next Chapter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460550/chapters/69741210#workskin)


	18. More Scars

**_Cause a Distraction_ **

Without thinking, June started towards the center of the road, Javier snapping at her to get back, but she continued walking. John had already gone inside the bank and was doing what he had to do. All _she_ had to do, was buy him time. She went to the middle of the road and stopped, waiting for the perfect timing. A man waddled out of the saloon and she took her chance, running up to him and punching him right in the face. It was only whens he saw the fire in his eyes that this was a grave mistake. _Why did you do that?! You're not like this! What has gotten into you?!_ The man blinked and furrowed his brows in anger. He then pushed her against the wall and held her tight around the throat.

"Now if ya wanted to just have some fun, you coulda just said so, darlin'" the man drawled, licking the lobe of her ear and grinding against her. She struggled and yelped as his fingers dug into her flesh. _Wrong move! That was not what you should have done! You should have fainted in the road or thrown a fit! Why did you have to take the dangerous route?!_ She brought her knee up to the man's groin and he howled in pain, falling to his knees and holding himself.

"Why ya little-"

"Hey! Leave the lady alone!" a familiar voice snapped. June was surprised to see that John had approached them, glaring down at the man and casting her a slight glare before returning his attention to the drunken bastard. The slob licked his lips and stumbled to his feet, waving a shaking finger at John. He was probably twice his size in weight and height. He towered over him like a damn boulder. June watched in horror as he shoved John back, knocking him clean off his feet.

"Whatcha say to me boy?" the man snarled. June looked back to where Javier had been standing, but he wasn't there. _Did he go inside the bank to finish the job?_ She focused back on the fight and John had gotten to his feet, throwing a punch to the man and jabbing him in the jaw. The man knocked against the post, falling to his butt. John kicked him in the stomach a few times and June could see blood pouring from the man's face where John had hit him. He blocked another punch and John drew his gun, pointing it at his head,

"I said...leave her...alone." In fear, the man clumsily got up and ran off towards the other side of town. June watched as John huffed and turned to her, his hands clenching at his sides.

"What the HELL were ya thinkin'!?" he snapped, making her flinch. He stomped over to her and yanked her to her feet. Granted, it hadn't hurt as much as she expected, but his grip on her arm was still uncomfortably tight. She lowered her head and stuttered, not quite sure how to find the right words,

"I-I thought I'd help." She choked out. At this time, Javier snuck out of the jail and whistled for their attention. John looked over at him and rolled his eyes, pulling June along towards the horses. She mounted Misty and bit down on her bottom lip hard so as not to cry. She was tougher than that. But as they rode silently back to camp, she knew that John wouldn't be talking to her for quite some time, and his lecture for her was far from over.

[Next Chapter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460550/chapters/69741216#workskin)


	19. More Scars

_**Stay Put** _

June sighed and leaned against the post. What was the point? She knew John wouldn't appreciate her helping, especially without his permission. John had already gone inside the bank and was doing what he had to do. Javier lit a match across his boot and started smoking, glancing at her and flicking the burnt match away. He scanned her over and nudged his head up at her,

"Somethin' the matter?"

"No," she said, crossing her arms. In the week she had been with the gang, she had come to know only a few of the members really well. She didn't know Javier that well, but he didn't seem bad. He moved closer to her and looked towards the jail, where Bill and John were handling the money.

"Some guy, huh?" _What is with everyone asking me about John?_

"I suppose..." June said, frowning in confusion. _What is he getting at?_

"He's got a short fuse that one. But he's also got a strong heart. Just takes a while to see it," Javier continued, shaking his head and laughing.

"What?" June asked, amused as he grinned to himself.

"You know John is so stubborn, he stepped in cow shit for it. Ah man, you had to be there. Literally, a pile a shit!" June burst out laughing and they talked more about the stupid things John had done in the past. One story, he had been so drunk that when he was knee-level in water, he freaked out as if a tsunami had hit him. Before they knew it, John and Bill came out of the bank and made their way over swiftly, but slow enough to not look suspicious. 

"We got five minutes," Bill informed them, mounting his horse. Everyone else followed suit and John glanced over at June.

"I'm surprised you didn't screw anythin' up," he scoffed as they rode out of Valentine. Behind him, June couldn't stop smiling, Javier's brows shooting up as he smirked at her.

[Next Chapter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460550/chapters/69741225#workskin)


	20. His Soft Side

**_Take Jack Fishing_ **

** *John's POV* **

"Just have him back in an hour, John," Abigail said as she folded one of her dresses that had been hanging on the tree branch. John nodded as June looked down at the boy with a soft smile. He was showing her the flower necklace he had made and she was praising him, helping him tie the end before he gave it to Abigail. 

"Aw, thank you my sweet boy. Now, your father and June are going to take you fishing! How does that sound?" Jack shrugged and turned to June,

"Could be fun, I guess..."

"You bet it will!" June said with enthusiasm, "Come on, you can ride with me on Misty." John watched as she took Jack's hand and guided him over to her Clydesdale, who gladly accepted the apple Jack held out for him. 

"She's very wonderful, isn't she?" Abigail commented, making John turn his attention back to her. Flustered he licked his lips nervously and picked up his satchel from the cot,

"I suppose."

"Hmm," Abigail hummed in response as he started towards June and Jack. He was giggling about something she had said, and John felt his curiosity grow. But he refrained from speaking out and asking as he mounted up and led the way down the hill. He couldn't help but admit that spending time with Jack would be nice. Abigail hardly ever let him have time with him. Then again...he _was_ usually busy robbing a bank or running berserk around the towns getting himself drunk. 

"Do you think Uncle Arthur likes you?" Jack asked, bringing John back to the present. He scoffed lightly to himself, but his ears were open to hear what June would say. She laughed lightly,

"He _is_ a good man, but I don't think I'm the one for him, Jack."

"Oh..." Jack said, the disappointment evident in his voice.

"Here we are," John called out, glad to have something to say that wasn't relevant to their...conversation. He didn't particularly like the questions his son was asking, but she didn't seem to mind them...and John didn't mind hearing what she had to say. He liked the sound of her voice. _Wait, what?_

"Isn't it lovely?!" June asked, drawing in a breath of fresh air as Jack hopped down with her help. She removed a small pole from her horse's bag and handed it to him. He carried it over his shoulder as they walked to the water's edge, the stream running gently over the rocks and sticks. 

"Just a creek. Like any other one..." John huffed, coming to her side and placing the bate on his hook. She send him a frown and shook her head,

"No stream is exactly alike. See? The tree across the water? The way it bows over the water, casting a shadow on the surface? or the way the sticks and twigs form a small dam over there? And how about the water itself? Is every creek as clear as this one?" Jack looked between the two and giggled,

"She seems to know what she's talkin' about, Papa." John stared at him, gawking at the words that came out of his own son's mouth. June stifled her laughter and she cleared her throat,

"Should we fish now, John?"

* * *

** *June's POV* **

They had been fishing for at least a half hour, still not having caught a single bite. Jack and June had been talking of things like how he wanted to grow up to be a soldier. She wondered where he had gotten the idea, but figured it was just his vivid imagination. He was a very bright child, and she hoped that John would have a better connection with him in the future. But then her thoughts started drifted elsewhere. She was imagining having a better connection with _him._ He still didn't seem to trust her, but she would change that. If she could, she would surely change that. But how was she going to do that? He was...so hard to talk to!

"John? How long have you known Abigail?" _Was that the wrong thing to ask?_

"I've known her for years. Met when I was thirteen. Dutch took us in...broke me out of jail multiple times," John said after a moment of silence. She nodded and looked down at Jack, who seemed to be struggling with his pole.

"John," June prompted. He looked over at his son and set down his rod, jumping at the chance to interact with the boy. He held the rod steady and instructed him to keep a tight grip and wind it slowly, so as not to break the line. June couldn't help but admire the scene before her. The way John handled it may have been...a bit awkward on his part, but she could tell by the smile graced on Jack's features that he appreciated it. 

"I got it! I got it, Pop!" Jack cheered as he pulled the small catfish out of the water. John grinned widely and glanced at June, who smiled softly and nodded in acknowledgment. Jack decided to let it go back in the water and John obliged by cutting it loose and they watched it swim away.

"June Harlow, isn't it?" a voice called to them suddenly, making June spin around to face two men getting off their black horses. "An in such...complex circumstances..." They were both wearing bowler hats, and June hadn't ever met either of them. _How do these men know who I am? Why are they looking at me as if I did something wrong?_

"Daughter of David Harlow? He was your father, wasn't he? And look who we have here? If it isn't John Marston. He's one of Dutch Van Der Linde's boys, ain't he? You've read the files. Typical case. Betraying father...killed in front of his own daughter because he couldn't give up what he stole. And here, an orphaned boy who was taken in by a gang. Agent Milton, and this is Agent Ross," he introduced them both, his voice sending shivers down June's spine. She took a step back, surprised when John stepped out in front of her, blocking her from the two men in case they pulled something. 

"Pinkerton Detective Agency..." the man continued, as they advanced towards them, "Seconded to the United States Government." June instantly held Jack to her side, trying to reassure him that nothing bad was going to happen. Not if she or John could help it. "Nice to finally meet. We know a lot about you two."

"Do you?" John asked, baring his teeth.

"You're both wanted criminals. There's five thousand dollars on your head alone, Mr. Marston. And though it's only the beginning for you're wife I presume here...it's only going to get worse."

"Five thousand dollars?" John looked back at June, his face contorted with what could only be read as anger and worry, "Can I turn myself in?"

"We want Van Der Linde," Milton said, sticking his thumbs in his belt loop. June scoffed, deciding it was her turn to step in, "Old Dutch? We haven't seen him for months."

"That so? Cause I heard...a guy fitting his description robbed a train, belonging to Leviticus Cornwall up near Granite Pass," Milton said casually, wiping the beaded sweat along his forehead.

"Ain't that a little...old fashioned nowadays?" John asked, his voice laced with fear.

"Apparently not," Milton stated, raising his hands up in defense as he continued, "Listen....This is my offer, Mr. and _Mrs._ Marston...bring in Van Der Linde...and you have my word, you won't swing."

"Oh we ain't gonna hang anyways Agent, um...Milton. You see, we haven't done anythin' wrong...aside from not play the games to your rules."

"Spare me the philosophy lesson, Mr. Marston. I've already heard it...from Mac Callander," Milton said with a sneer, growing more serious by the second. June hadn't realized that she had reached out for Marston's hand until he squeezed it tightly. 

"Mac Callander?" John asked, eyes widening.

"He was pretty shot up by the time I got to him...so really, it was more of a mercy killing. Slow, but merciful," Milton said, his tone containing only venom now as he spoke. June had heard of Mac Callander. Dutch had talked about loosing him in Blackwater weeks back. And now... _Oh poor John._ He threw the rod he was holding on the ground, making the agents point their guns. The anger seemed to be coming off of him in waves, the heat washing over June as he growled,

"You enjoy bein' a rich man's toy, do you?"

"I enjoy society...flaws and all....You people venerate savagery...and you will die...savagely," he snapped his fist closed and June tugged John back a bit. "All of you," Milton stated again. 

"Oh, we're all gonna die, Agent. Some of us sooner than others," John said angrily, making sure to keep his feet grounded as Milton turned around and started back towards his horse,

"Good day Mr. and Mrs. Marston."

"Goodbye," June bit back as they left them with a pit in their stomachs. 

"You okay, June?" John suddenly turned to her, his face falling in concern as he looked her over, his face seeming hurt from the news. She was taken aback by his sudden concern for her, but she merely nodded as he looked down at their intertwined hands. He licked his lips nervously before rubbing her knuckles softly before letting go and whispering, "We should get goin'..."


	21. His Soft Side

**_Take Jack Horse Riding_ **

"Just have him back in an hour, John," Abigail said as she folded one of her dresses that had been hanging on the tree branch. John nodded as June looked down at the boy with a soft smile. He was showing her the flower necklace he had made and she was praising him, helping him tie the end before he gave it to Abigail. 

"Aw, thank you my sweet boy. Now, your father and June are going to take you riding! How does that sound?" Jack shrugged and turned to June,

"Could be fun, I guess..."

"You bet it will!" June said with enthusiasm, "Come on. You're gonna be ridin' with your father." John watched as she took Jack's hand and guided him over to her Clydesdale, who gladly accepted the apple Jack held out for him. 

"She's very wonderful, isn't she?" Abigail commented, making John turn his attention back to her. Flustered he licked his lips nervously and picked up his satchel from the cot,

"I suppose."

"Hmm," Abigail hummed in response as he started towards June and Jack. He was giggling about something she had said, and John felt his curiosity grow. But he refrained from speaking out and asking as he mounted up and helped Jack up on the horse with him, letting him sit in front of him. He glanced back at June and nodded as he led the way down the hill. He couldn't help but admit that spending time with Jack would be nice. Abigail hardly ever let him have time with him. Then again...he _was_ usually busy robbing a bank or running berserk around the towns getting himself drunk. 

"Do you think Uncle Arthur likes you?" Jack asked, bringing John back to the present. He realized that he was talking to June, who was riding along side them. He scoffed quietly, but his ears were open to hear what June would say. She laughed lightly,

"He _is_ a good man, but I don't think I'm the one for him, Jack."

"Oh..." Jack said, the disappointment evident in his voice.

"What do you say we race," John called out, thanking himself for having something to say that wasn't relevant to their...conversation. He didn't particularly like the questions his son was asking, but she didn't seem to mind them...and John didn't mind hearing what she had to say. He liked the sound of her voice. _Wait, what?_

"You think you could beat me, _Mr. Marston_?!" June asked, drawing in a breath fresh air as Jack giggled and readied himself to get a move on. She came up right beside them and grinned from ear-to-ear at the two. John laughed dryly,

"I _know_ I'll beat you, _Ms. Harlow_." 

"Why are you guys sayin each other's names like that?" Jack asked innocently, tilting his head in confusion. June laughed and cleared her throat awkwardly before changing the subject,

"Alright then. I win, you owe me a drink. You win, I owe you one. Deal?" John smirked at her suggestion and stuck his hand out for her to shake.

"Deal."

* * *

** *June's POV* **

They lined themselves up at the path and counted own from three, June kicking into Misty's sides as they rushed forward. They had agreed to race to the entrance to Valentine, and considering John has Jack with him, she would take it easy on the two. _Especially_ because she wanted Jack to win. Not John. She would have to race him later on to prove him wrong. She could win easily. Her father had been the one to teach her how to ride.

"How you doin' back there, John!?" June called, glancing back to where he was yards away from her. He laughed and rolled his eyes,

"C'mon, Papa! We gotta catch up!" Jack commanded him, leaning forward against the horse's neck as he furrowed his brows in concentration as though he were the one riding the horse. June felt her world daze around her as she focused on the two. The boy and his father. This man that seemed to start off as something horrible. Rude and stubborn. Now...she was seeing the soft side of him. She smiled to herself as she continued forward. They were now halfway to the town and before she knew it, Misty had bucked her off, rearing on his hind legs as she was thrown off. She let out a scream as she flew through the air, falling flat on her butt as she felt the earth shake beneath her.

"June! Get off the tracks! June!" John was calling out, but she couldn't make out exactly what he was saying as she grew very dizzy. She rubbed her temples, trying to focus on what was happening. John was suddenly in her line of sight, rushing towards her at a fast pace. Her eyes widened and she yelped when she was yanked into his arms and her body was rolling to the side as the loud cranking of the passing train sped past them. She regained her focus and stared in horror where she was sitting moments before the train passed. She had been on the tracks?!

"June! June are you okay?!" John asked in concern, moving the hair from her face as she now realized she was sitting in his lap. Her face heated up as she stared at him in confusion.

"Y-You...saved me?" John pinched the bridge of his nose as he ignored the question and mumbled,

"God you gave me a heart attack woman!" June furrowed her brows and stumbled to her feet, squeaking in surprise when he pulled her back down,

"Don't get up yet. Just, relax for a moment, will ya?" His command made her insides twist. He was genuinely _concerned_ for her. And as much as she _enjoyed_ it, she didn't like being ordered around. She glared at him,

"Now you listen here, Mr. Marston!" He blinked at her, taken aback by her sudden outburst, "I can take care of myself!"

"Sure looked like it!" he replied sarcastically, hi voice growing louder as she tried to move from his arms again. But his grip tightened on her and her face burned. His face softened for a moment as he seemed to note this and she turned her head away stubbornly. 

"June?" his hand reached out and took her chin in it as he turned her head back to face him. She kept her gaze averted from his own as he spoke in a whisper, his voice raspy and low, "I thought I lost ya..." She looked at him in confusion and opened her mouth to say something, but was saw that Jack was standing behind John with a tilted head,

"Papa! You're a hero!" He rushed up to them and hugged June, making her gasp in shock. She hesitated before hugging him back, loving the warmth that was coming from this sweet child. She smiled and chuckled as she looked at John, his lips twitching upwards at the corners. He then opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off as two men on horses rode up to them,

"June Harlow, isn't it?" a voice called to them as they got off their horses and approached them, "And in such...complex circumstances..." They were both wearing bowler hats, and June hadn't ever met either of them. _How do these men know who I am? Why are they looking at me as if I did something wrong?_ John and June got to their feet, keeping Jack behind them.

"Daughter of David Harlow? He was your father, wasn't he? And look who we have here? If it isn't John Marston. He's one of Dutch Van Der Linde's boys, ain't he? You've read the files. Typical case. Betraying father...killed in front of his own daughter because he couldn't give up what he stole. And here, an orphaned boy who was taken in by a gang. Agent Milton, and this is Agent Ross," he introduced them both, his voice sending shivers down June's spine. She took a step back, surprised when John stepped out in front of her, blocking her from the two men in case they pulled something. 

"Pinkerton Detective Agency..." the man continued, as they advanced towards them, "Seconded to the United States Government." June instantly held Jack to her side, trying to reassure him that nothing bad was going to happen. Not if she or John could help it. "Nice to finally meet. We know a lot about you two."

"Do you?" John asked, baring his teeth.

"You're both wanted criminals. There's five thousand dollars on your head alone, Mr. Marston. And though it's only the beginning for you're wife I presume here...it's only going to get worse."

"Five thousand dollars?" John looked back at June, his face contorted with what could only be read as anger and worry, "Can I turn myself in?"

"We want Van Der Linde," Milton said, sticking his thumbs in his belt loop. June scoffed, deciding it was her turn to step in, "Old Dutch? We haven't seen him for months."

"That so? Cause I heard...a guy fitting his description robbed a train, belonging to Leviticus Cornwall up near Granite Pass," Milton said casually, wiping the beaded sweat along his forehead.

"Ain't that a little...old fashioned nowadays?" John asked, his voice laced with fear.

"Apparently not," Milton stated, raising his hands up in defense as he continued, "Listen....This is my offer, Mr. and _Mrs._ Marston...bring in Van Der Linde...and you have my word, you won't swing."

"Oh we ain't gonna hang anyways Agent, um...Milton. You see, we haven't done anythin' wrong...aside from not play the games to your rules."

"Spare me the philosophy lesson, Mr. Marston. I've already heard it...from Mac Callander," Milton said with a sneer, growing more serious by the second. June hadn't realized that she had reached out for Marston's hand until he squeezed it tightly. 

"Mac Callander?" John asked, eyes widening.

"He was pretty shot up by the time I got to him...so really, it was more of a mercy killing. Slow, but merciful," Milton said, his tone containing only venom now as he spoke. June had heard of Mac Callander. Dutch had talked about loosing him in Blackwater weeks back. And now... _Oh poor John._ He threw the rod he was holding on the ground, making the agents point their guns. The anger seemed to be coming off of him in waves, the heat washing over June as he growled,

"You enjoy bein' a rich man's toy, do you?"

"I enjoy society...flaws and all....You people venerate savagery...and you will die...savagely," he snapped his fist closed and June tugged John back a bit. "All of you," Milton stated again. 

"Oh, we're all gonna die, Agent. Some of us sooner than others," John said angrily, making sure to keep his feet grounded as Milton turned around and started back towards his horse,

"Good day Mr. and Mrs. Marston."

"Goodbye," June bit back as they left them with a pit in their stomachs. 

"You okay, June?" John suddenly turned to her, his face falling in concern as he looked her over, his face seeming hurt from the news. She was taken back once more from his concern for her, but she merely nodded as he looked down at their intertwined hands. He licked his lips nervously before rubbing her knuckles softly before letting go and whispering, "We should get goin'..."


	22. His Soft Side

**_Cause a Distraction_ **

"What were ya thinkin'?!" John snapped again, making June flinch as he paced back and forth at the cliffside. She opened her mouth to speak, but he was quicker,

"You coulda gotten yerself in some real danger, woman! He coulda _killed_ ya!"

"He could of done far worse than _that_ , John Marston!" June shouted back, not caring if a scene was cause. She was pretty sure that the gang was watching them anyhow. John opened his mouth, but shook his head, grumbling under his breath as he continued walking back and forth. Now he was making her dizzy and she reached out to stop him, but he spun to face her, eyes glaring at her dangerously,

"I thought you could handle it."

"I did! I was only tryin' to help, John!" 

"You weren't thinkin'!"

"I'm a grown woman! I can take care of myself!"

"Clearly you can't!"

"Clearly I can! I had it handled!" John laughed dryly at that and rolled his eyes,

"The man had his _hands_ on you!"

"Why does that bother you?!"

"Why shouldn't it bother me!?" June paused, not quite sure how to answer him. Why did it bother it so much? Was it because of the fact that he could had wrung her neck in one twist? Or was it because of something else?

"John?" she whispered, tilting her head as she studied his features. He ran his hands through his hair, ruffling it up and giving it a messy look.

"What?!" he asked in annoyance. June ignored the tone of his voice and stepped forward, causing him to look at her with a cocked brow. She licked her lips nervously as she said softly,

"Thank you...for saving me..." John gaped at her, obviously not quite understanding why she wasn't yelling anymore. Why wasn't she yelling at him anymore? She wasn't even sure of it herself. They were now so close that she could feel his warm breath on her face and she reached out, causing him to flinch. When he figured she wasn't going to strike him, he allowed her to touch him face, her fingers brushing over his scars lightly. His breathing was slow and collected as he traced her features with his eyes. 

"I couldn't just stand by..." he said softly, taking her hand in his and running his thumb over her knuckles. She felt a lump rise in her throat. What was running through her mind right now, she couldn't say. All she knew was that she wanted so badly to be close to him. To feel every inch of his skin. To kiss him. 

"Please don't run again..." he said, taking her by surprise. She frowned and focused on his hand on hers.

"Why?" She felt her heart skip her beat at his answer,

"Because you belong here, June..."

"John...?" June asked quietly, not wanting to ruin the moment between them. He tilted his head a bit as he waited for her to continue, "How would you feel...if I...if I..." she trailed off as she stood on her tip-toes and caught his lips on hers. His other hand along her neck and through the strands of her hair as he moaned against her lips, moving his in sync with hers. Her insides twisted with excitement as he asked for entrance, catching her by surprise when she allowed it, his tongue fighting with hers as he deepened the kiss. 

"Stay for me, June..." John murmured as he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers as she panted from her loss of energy. She nodded and drew in a shaky breath,

"I will."


	23. His Soft Side

**_Stay Put_ **

"You did good, June," John said as they stood on the cliffside. June picked up a rock and threw it off the cliff, watching as it tumbled down the mountain side. 

"I kind of missed the action..." she said with a shrug, not quite understanding why he was praising her for staying in one spot. She hadn't quite enjoyed being stuck in one spot while he did all the work. She liked the adventure. She craved it in fact. It only grew when her father was killed. And when she found piano...that was her only escape from this world.

"June?" John cleared his throat and she turned to him to see him rubbing his neck awkwardly. _Is he...nervous?_

"Yes, John?" June felt her insides flip as he licked his lips. He stepped closer to her, making her jump in shock. He then hesitated before taking her hand in his and clearing his throat again,

"Please don't run again..." he said, taking her by surprise. She frowned and focused on his hand on hers.

"Why?" She felt her heart skip her beat at his answer,

"Because you belong here, June..."

"John...?" June asked quietly, not wanting to ruin the moment between them. He tilted his head a bit as he waited for her to continue, "How would you feel...if I...if I..." she trailed off as she stood on her tip-toes and caught his lips on hers. His other hand along her neck and through the strands of her hair as he moaned against her lips, moving his in sync with hers. Her insides twisted with excitement as he asked for entrance, catching her by surprise when she allowed it, his tongue fighting with hers as he deepened the kiss. 

"Stay for me, June..." John murmured as he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers as she panted from her loss of energy. She nodded and drew in a shaky breath,

"I will."


End file.
